All Around The World
by Little Yellow Sunflower
Summary: A whole bunch of silly oneshots, and plotbunnies that just won't leave me alone. May or may not include drunken shenanigans, magic, and- what's this? Visible!Canada? *gasp*
1. Sight

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. If I did, you guys would probably be screwed.

* * *

**SIGHT**

"_Finally!_" called a very impatient America "The meeting is _over_! The Hero is out!". It was the end of yet another World Meeting, and nations were packing up belongings, and filing out the door. Except for two nations, who stayed behind. These nations were America and Canada.

Since the meeting was in Washington D.C this time around, America had stayed behind a little bit later then he had to. Eventually, having packed up all of his stray papers (they were covered in doodles). America headed for he door. Suddenly he stopped, and called over his shoulder "Hey, Canada, whatcha want for dinner?".

Canada grinned, and stood up from the chair he was in, saying " I don't know, but i'm starving!" They walked out of the meeting hall, towards their respective cars. America turned to Canada, saying "Let's go see what there is to eat, around here". Canada nodded, and got into his car.

They drove around,trying to find something that they both wanted to eat. In the end, they ate in. Meaning they tried to see if they could burn water, like England- who had been in a perfectly vindictive mood, when he'd done that. It had been hilarious to see his, and France's stunned expressions.

Upon failing, they sighed, and Canada looked around America's kitchen, to see if there was anything he could use to make some form of dinner (which they were supposed to be eating, right about now), and came up empty handed. America shrugged, he had been busy lately.

After locating a phone-book, pizza was decided upon. After twenty minutes of heated discussion, they reached an agreement about what went on the aforementioned pizza. Finally, they placed a call, to the preferred pizza place. Food was on the way, and neither brother could have been happier about that.

Twenty _more_ minutes later, there was pizza on the kitchen table. Like ravenous wolves they descended. Tearing into the food like it was the last meal they would ever eat. It was seven o'clock, at night, and they were _starving_. Soon enough, the entire pizza was devoured, and a very happy pair of twins trudged into the living room.

* * *

It's a personal Headcanon of mine, that America can see Canada, but during the more... hectic meetings, he tends to not see his quiet twin. Also, sorry it's so short, but it's like 2 a.m where I live, so...

Be free my pretties(or handsomes as the case may be), review if you want, just remember: Flames will be used to toast marshmallows, and Flamers will not receive a S'more!

Published: 2/9/13

Edit: 2/12/13 I decided it was too short, so i rewrote some of it, and added parts in.


	2. Piano

Disclaimer: If i owned Hetalia, and I don't, then I would be off drawing more pages, not writing fanfictions!

* * *

**PIANO**

It was lunchtime, during the world meeting, and nations were chatting, as they ate. The only ones not in the room were Austria, America,Canada, and Russia. Not that anyone noticed Canada was gone, yet. As the clock ticked on, the sound of a piano filled the room, confusing the present nations. After all, nobody had even known that there _was_ a piano in the meeting hall.

They all looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. It was an unsuccessful endeavor, and they didn't find the player. Voicing the question on all of the present nations' minds, England spoke "Who on Earth is playing piano, during lunch?" He asked, rhetorically.

The first person to speak was Hungary "It might be Austria. I can't think of anyone else who might be playing..." She stated. England looked thoughtful for about half a second, because Austria was walking back into the meeting room, and the music hadn't stopped. Austria shook his head 'No' before saying "You could always go look, you know.".

England stood, walking out of the room; followed by several other nations. He walked towards the sound as best as he could, but there were several meeting rooms, so this was easier said then done. Eventually (five minutes later) He arrived at what was seemingly the source of the beautiful music. With a triumphant grin, England opened the door. All of the nations peeked in the doorway, to see who it was.

Little surprised noises found their way passes about six pairs of lips. America was seated at a sleek, black grand piano, finishing up the tail end of 'Canon in D' with quick fingertips. Seated at the small table in the room was Canada, who was eating his lunch, quietly.

When America finished the piece, Austria clapped, and America stiffened. He turned his head to look at the door, and was surprised to see Austria, Hungary, England, France, Germany, and Italy standing in the doorway. "I didn't know you could play America." Austria said, as the nations piled into the medium sized room. "Yeah," America mumbled "I play ok...". Canada chose that moment to cut in, saying "Not ok, America, you play amazingly." America smiled.

"Yeah, ok, maybe I _do_ play piano a pretty well. Lunch break is almost over though, and I haven't even _started_ eating yet." Germany glanced at the clock. He was right, lunch break ended in ten minutes. Turning to leave, the other shocked nations followed Germany out of the room, back towards the other nations.

* * *

Yet _another_ headcanon of mine is that America plays piano quite well.

Oh well, i hope you enjoyed it at least.

Posted On: 2/10/13

Review, if you want, but no flames please. Flames will be put out with buckets of ice water. Flamers will also be doused.


	3. Draw Something

Disclaimer: I most certainly do _not_ own Hetalia. If i did, People would notice Canada. I also don't own Draw Something, or Apple.

* * *

**DRAW SOMETHING**

_Tap. Tap, sliiiiiiide. Tap tap._ Canada was playing a game. Not just any game though, this was one of the craziest games ever invented. Draw Something. It was incredibly easy to get trolled, on games like this, so he didn't know why he played it so much. Right now, he was drawing. The thing he was supposed to be drawing was 'Dog'.

He heard someone walk up behind him, and stare over his shoulder, at the game. "What game is this?" He heard the person- now identified as his twin- ask. _Sliiiiiiide. Tap. Tap tap._ Canada didn't look up from his game. " It's Draw Something. Bet you can't guess what the point if the game is." He states, as his turn as the artist ends, and a bunch of people get points.

His brother 'Hm's in amusement, before saying "Sounds like it would be pretty easy to get trolled on that game." Canada nods in agreement. Suddenly he gets what his brother is trying to say. Their eyes meet. America wants to troll. Canada grinned, maliciously. He approved, oh yes, he did. So begins their reign of terror.

AMERICACANADARUSSIAENGLAND

"Ah, um, is it a... Snake?"

No, it's not a snake.

"Crap! Is it a... Stick... Figure?"

Unfortunately, it was not.

Time runs out. The answer flashes across the screen.

"AW HELL NAW! There is NO WAY that that's an Avocado!"

Somewhere in Arkansas, a teenager throws her tablet on the ground.

FRANCENORWAYDENMARKGERMANY

"Ah... Um... Is it the sun?"

It's not the sun.

"Oh no, i'm running out of time! Is it a face?"

No, it sure wasn't. Time is up. The word 'house' shows.

"WHAT THE FUCK?! HOW IS THAT A HOUSE?! IT'S _ROUND_!"

In Oregon, a grown man angrily abandons his Iphone.

ITALYSPAINCHINAJAPAN

"Ahahaha! Aw _Mattie_! That was _hilarious_!" America laughs to his brother. Canada himself is choking on words as he laughs. It's times like these, that he wouldn't trade for the world. After all; he loved his brother. They did crazy stuff, like this together.

Yeah, this was totally awesome.

* * *

Alright~ That's a wrap! I can just see America doing something like that. I really can. I hope you enjoyed!

Posted On: 2/10/13

Review, if you want, but no flames. Flames will be ignored, and Flamers will most likely receive a kick in the pants.


	4. Drunk

Disclaimer: Own Hetalia, I do not.

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**DRUNK****  
**

It was a little known fact that America couldn't get drunk. It was impossible for him to do so. He didn't know why he couldn't get drunk, actually, he just never got drunk. Most of the other nations- Canada not included- figured he had a monstrously high alcohol tolerance.

Really, though, it came as little surprise when he was in a bar, surrounded by drunk nations. He watched a very drunk England fall out of his chair, because he used a hand motion, that was a _little_ too wild for him to handle. America vaguely wondered what the story was, that the hand motions were necessary. Canada slid closer to the edge of his barstool.

Sometimes, America wished he could get drunk, like when his heart ached. Other times, not so much. America watched Romano draw a large, bushy mustache on a passed out Germany's face. He laughed a little bit, and took a picture. The bar they were all in would close soon, and he'd have to make calls for the drunk nations, and haul Canada's drunk carcass back to his house.

As he downed another shot of whiskey, he wondered about his apparent immunity to drunkness. He didn't find an answer to the question, nor had he expected to. Oh well. He had calls to make, anyway. He pulled out his phone, and laughed. France had tripped over his own feet. Maybe, just maybe, not being able to get drunk was a good thing.

Tomorrow morning, he'd greet his brother with coffee, Aspirin , and incriminating pictures. Now though, he was waiting for Spain to come get Romano. He grinned, as Romano got in the car, and promptly passed out.

He had a brother to get home, now. A very _drunk_ thankfully, Canada was a sleepy drunk, so getting him into the car wasn't too hard. Neither was getting him buckled. He did seem very fond of the window control, though, so he'd had to lock it. Thirty minutes later, the were at America's house.

Dumping his brother on the guest bed, he padded down the hallway, to the bathroom. A couple minutes later, he shuffled towards his bedroom, now donning red pajama bottoms. He flopped into bed, and turned the light out. Right now, he was glad he couldn't get drunk, because that meant no hangovers.

When he woke up the next morning, America headed for the kitchen, to get some coffee. Fifteen minutes later, he heard a groan. Canada was awake. As America shuffled down the hallway, coffee and Aspirin in hand, Canada groaned again. He had a killer hangover. He took the coffee from his brother, and took some Aspirin. With the healing rate he had, he would be fine in half an hour.

Shutting the blinds, America left with a Cheshire Cat grin. He'd be waiting for his twin in the kitchen, with some pictures from last night. Oh yes, not getting drunk was a _very_ good thing.

* * *

Alright, yet another headcanon. Just let me say, that these aren't necessarily connected, but they could be. So you can take it any way you want to.

I hope you liked it! I'm trying to make them longer, but I have to type this up on an Ipod, so it's easier said then done.

Posted on: 2/10/13

Review, if you want, but please, no flames. Flames will be smacked with a wet rag. So will Flamers.


	5. Mustache

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, i'm just playing in the sandbox that Himaruya lets us borrow.

* * *

**MUSTACHE**

When Germany woke up the next morning, his head was pounding. He was hungover from last night, at the bar. He couldn't remember much, after a certain period, and after that, nothing at all. He felt awful, but that couldn't be helped. The pain would be gone in half an hour anyway.

With a groan, he sat up, before trudging slowly to the kitchen for some coffee. Prussia saw Germany coming, from his place in the kitchen, and snickered. He still hadn't noticed. Hearing the snicker, Germany turned around and glared at him. Silence reigned, for all of thirty seconds, as coffee was prepared, and chairs sat in. At this point, it hurt not to laugh.

Germany noticed his expression, and asked crankily "What? Is there something on my face?". Prussia's composure slipped, and he lost it. He laughed hysterically, tears coming out of the corners of his eyes. "No, West, o-of course- haha- not!" He managed to choke out. Germany shook his head; his brother was an idiot.

A knock sounded at the door, and Germany went to see who it was. Austria stood at the aforementioned door "Good morning I-" he broke off, as he saw Germany's face. "What happened to your face?" Austria asked, frowning.

Upon seeing Germany's confused look, he deduced that it was probably one of Prussia's pranks. Shaking his head, he turned on heel, and strode off. Germany looked absolutely baffled, as he walked back to the kitchen.

Prussia looked up, when Germany came back in. He smirked, and turned away. By this point, Germany was irritated. Why did everyone act so weird, today? Was it International Irritate Germany Day? God, he hoped not. It may not be a real holiday, but sometimes he felt like it was.

The front door opened and closed, as Italy passed through it, with a cheerful "Hi Germany!". Germany twisted in his chair, to say hello. "Germany?" Asked Italy "Why do you ha-" he was cut off by the sound of breaking glass. "Ah, sorry, West." Mumbled Prussia, as he started cleaning up the glass. Italy stooped, to help him, momentarily forgetting his question.

Germany's stomache growled, suddenly, and loudly. He glanced at the clock- it was twelve thirty in the afternoon. "Ah! Germany is hungry!" Italy proclaimed "Can I make pasta~?". Germany shook his head; that was his Italy, alright. "Yes, you can make pasta." He said, amiably.

With a cheer, Italy set to work making pasta. Yet another knock sounded at the door, and this time, Prussia went to see who it was. The sound of a brief conversation was heard, even if the words weren't. The door shut, and Prussia came back, with Spain and France.

Spain giggled when he saw Germany, who groaned. It seemed everyone was laughing at his face. Hearing Spain's giggle, Italy turned around to say hello. Then he remembered his question "Germany, why is there a-" once again he was cut off. This time by a laughing Prussia. "That's an amazing joke, Spain!" He laughed, when Spain was done telling it.

Italy turned back to his pasta, that was nearly finished. The Bad Touch Trio was now occupying the living room, and Germany sat at the table. Setting pasta down in front of him, Italy sat down, too. With A brief "thank you" Germany dug in. He didn't like pasta all that much, but he was starving.

It was quiet in the kitchen, until Germany was half done with his pasta. Then, suddenly, Italy asked his question "Germany, why is there a mustache on your face?" Germany stared confused. Then he remembered the events of the morning. Prussia laughing, Austria asking what was wrong with his face, it made sense now.

Standing up, Germany dashed for the bedroom, tearing strait passed his brother, and his friends, who laughed as he ran by. Pulling the bathroom door open, and standing in front of the mirror, he stared. There was indeed a mustache drawn across his face. He was about to be incredibly angry, when he realized the humor of it.

Wouldn't he laugh, if Prussia came into the kitchen in the morning, with a mustache drawn on his face? So he laughed, because it was funny. As he scrubbed his face clean, Prussia came in, as he was washing his face, and said "Somebody got you good, West." Germany nodded, yes, they had. Walking back into the kitchen, Italy was surprised "It's gone!" He marveled.

"Is it really?" Germany asked, twirling an invisible mustache. He laughed again, when Italy nodded. Just another day in his crazy life. Then Spain opened his mouth "Romano sure got you, Germany!" Germany did not laugh, or agree, this time. Suddenly, it wasn't funny, anymore. He went on the warpath. "Don't hurt Fratello!" Italy shrieked. Germany kept going.

* * *

Well. That was interesting. Incase you couldn't tell, this was a sort of omake to the chapter: Drunk. I thought that a mustache-bearing Germany would be hilarious.

Posted On: 2/11/13

Review if you want, but Flames will be ignored, and Flamers shunned.


	6. Crazy

Disclaimer: Mine, Hetalia is not. Glad, you should all be ;)

* * *

**CRAZY**

"America, what are you doing?" asked Italy, as he watched America. "I'm trying to- hngh- paint with my- gaaah- feet." he replied, as he lay upside-down against a wall, paintbrush between his toes, trying to paint on a hanging canvas. "Wouldn't it be easier to do that in a chair?" Italy wondered aloud, as America wobbled, and almost fell. A paint drop landed on America's nose, as he drew a flower.

"No."

"You're crazy."

AMERICACANADARUSSIAENGLAND

"Amerique? What are you doing?" France asked, staring at America, as if he'd grown a second head. America turned his head towards him, saying "I'm playing Three Way Chess.". France frowned "Wouldn't that be more fun, if there were two other players?" He prompted. America looked at him, incredulously.

"No! I'm an _amazing_ opponent!"

"You, mon cheri, are crazy."

FRANCENORWAYDENMARKGERMANY

"Amerika? What are you doing?" Russia inquired. America didn't move, to look at him "I'm playing darts." he answered. Russia raised an eyebrow, as a dart missed the board entirely, and lodged itself in the wall. Opening his mouth, he watched a dart shoot through the air, and fly out the open window. "Wouldn't it be easier to turn around and _look_ at the board?"

"Probably."

"Then why don't you?"

"This is much more fun." A dart stuck to the door.

"You are very crazy, Amerika."

ITALYSPAINCHINAJAPAN

America slid quickly down the hall, in an office chair. The World Meeting's building in England had _amazing_ hallways for this sort of thing. He whizzed past Germany with a shrieking "Yahoooo!". Germany turned to look, as the chair bounced off of a wall, and turned the corner.

With a huge grin on his face, he turned to run it back up the hall, so he could do it again. As he came back, passing Germany again, he didn't see the other nation shake his head in a mixture of irritation, and amusement. "Absolutely crazy" Germany muttered "Crazier then Bruder, even." . America kept running, until he got back to the spot he had pushed off from, the first time.

Maneuvering the chair so that he could kick off of the wall again, he sat back down in it. Putting his foot against the wall, he braced himself. As he prepared to kick off, he heard England open the door to the room he had been in, and enter the hallway. He kicked off anyway. "What on _Earth_ are you doing?! Are you bloody _insane__!?"_

Blatantly ignoring him, America shot down the hallway, screeching "Wheeeeee!". As he passed the open door, where Germany was doing his paper work, he quieted. He slammed his feet on the ground, stopping just in time to avoid crashing into Canada. While thankful that his brother managed to stop in time, he was confused.

"Hey, America?" He asked, as his brother leaned back in the office chair. "Yeah, Canada?" America asked, right back. "What are you doing?" Canada inquired, looking interested. After all, it's not often that your brother comes shooting down the hall, in an office chair. America grinned so widely, it looked like the smile might split his face "I'm riding an office chair down the hallway!" He chirped, happily.

"Can I try?"

"Hells yes, you can!"

The twins dragged the chair down the hallway, to the very end of it. Canada settled in the chair, before giving his brother the thumbs up. America shoved the chair, hard. With a squealing "Wheeeeee!" Canada slid down the hall, in the chair his brother had procured from an unspecified source (Prussia).Slamming into a wall, he bounced off and shot around the corner. Eventually, it ran out of momentum.

As he ran down the hall, chair in tow, he was grinning like a mad-man. Making it back to where America was, he got ready to push the chair, for his twin. America jumped into the chair, asking "So, how'd that make ya feel?". Grin still in place, he said "I dunno, like this?" and then he shoved America as hard as he could.

The chair seemed to fly down the only path available, even if it wasn't really. With a laugh, America jolted, as the chair rounded the corner (smashing into the wall, first). He kept on going, until he slowed down, as he attempted to stop, he crashed into Spain. Thankfully, he had slowed down significantly, and so neither was hurt.

With a 'Sorry, Spain!' He took off back down the hall, dragging the chair with him. Once again, he returned to the spot where he came from. Canada was waiting for his return, after all. He took his sweet time, his feet sore from trying so hard to stop he chair. By the time he made it back to the spot, Canada was impatient.

America opened his mouth, as Canada walked up to him, and said "Sorry, I crashed into Spain." as he stood up. Canada grinned, amused by the things that always seemed to happen to his twin. Just as he was about to sit in the chair, something happened. The chair shot forward, scooping them both up, as it continued it's mad dash down the hall.

Meanwhile, England felt accomplished, for having shoved the chair so hard. He heard shrieking 'Wheeeeeeeee's and smirked. Oh yes, he still had it. As they came running back to him, America squealed "Again!". Shaking his head, at the twins, he grinned. They were laughing, with shining eyes. How could you say 'No' to such sweet faces?

"Absolutely insane." He muttered. Then he shoved the chair again.

* * *

England dragged him to the meeting early, so America was bored. That's why he was playing with the office chair. Although; I personally, would _love_ to do that.

Posted On: 2/11/13

Review, if you enjoyed, but no Flames. Flames will be used to make a bonfire, and Flamers will not be asked to join Our camping trip.


	7. Innocence

Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine, if it were, America and Canada would be able to do magic.

* * *

**INNOCENCE**

It was 2 a.m when Sealand got up. He slinked across his bedroom, silently. Opening up his backpack, he grabbed one of England's magic books- it was 'Meeting Week' as he'd dubbed it, so he'd nicked it during the Lunch break. He'd get it back to Jerk-England tomorrow. Right now though, he had business to take care of.

It was April first, April Fools Day, and he was going to prank America! He knew America would appreciate the joke, unlike stupid Jerk-England, who would just yell at him. He didn't know what he was going to do yet, but he guessed he'd find something.

Thumbing quietly through the old tome's pages- the books name was 'Magick for Apprentices'- if he had to hazard a guess; he'd say that this book was pretty darn old. The book itself was totally brilliant, the spells were just what he needed! Spells to change hair color, spells to make your toenails longer, and- oh this one was perfect. America was _sure_ to get a kick out of this!

With his limited knowledge of Spell-casting, he knew he needed something that belonged to America. That was why he'd swiped America's hairbrush, yesterday! Drawing his required 'Magic Circle' (he was sure the was another name for it... Penta-something) he started the chant, being as quiet as he could. He didn't want to wake up Papa-Sweden. Or anyone else for that matter.

As he completed the spell, which was relatively easy, he grinned. Now he just had to wait for morning! While he erased the Magic Circle (Penta-something), he didn't notice that he had gotten two of the runes wrong. Nor did he realize that he'd mispronounced about half of the incantation.

Sealand stored 'Magick for Apprentices' in his backpack again, and clambered into bed. Quickly, he drifted off to sleep. The book said that he could delay the time that the spell would come into effect, so he had- smartly- delayed it until about Lunch time tomorrow. During all the craziness, he would return Jerk-England's book.

Norway (who was down the hall) twitched in his sleep, he knew that something bad was going to happen, subconsciously. His forehead creased, briefly, before he returned to his beautiful dream. Which may or may not have had to do with a much younger Iceland.*

A couple hours later, when being awake was actually sensible, Sealand woke up. Jumping out of bed, he hopped in the shower. He took special care to use only the soap he had _just_ brought in. After all, he didn't wanna end up with blue hair, did he? Norway had thought of that one, especially for Denmark.

As he walked out of the shower, twenty minutes later, he contemplated breakfast. He knew it wasn't healthy to skip, but he _also_ knew that Denmark had put lots of salt in the cereal. Poor Iceland didn't know that though. It was hilarious to watch, as his facial expressions changed.

Iceland had retaliated by pouring lot's of Habeñero sauce into Denmark's coffee while he was in the bathroom. Norway had congratulated him on a job well done, for that. At this point, thankfully, Papa-Sweden had come in, with doughnuts for Mama** and him. For which they were very grateful.

It seemed like _forever_ until it was time to go to the meeting, when in reality, they had to leave in forty-five minutes. He would- once again- be left with the other Micro-nations, in a room nearby the one where the Nations were meeting. They (the other Micro-nations) depended on his amazing ninja-skills to sneak in, and spy on the Nations. It was _so_ cool.

They all shuffled to their respective cars, and hit the road. Sealand climbed in the back of Papa-Sweden's car, and as always, Mama claimed Shotgun.*** They were headed for the building where Day 2 of the World Meeting would take place. Soon enough they arrived at their destination. Shuffling along, beside Papa-Sweden, backpack thrown over his shoulder, Sealand was ready to go.

As he was left with his friends, Sealand waved. "Hey, Wy!" He called, by way of greeting. Wy half smiled, before saying "Hi, Sealand, you ready to go spy on the Nations?". Sealand nodded, he had to return Jerk-England's book, after all. Sealand snuck into the meeting room, as quietly as he could. As usual, the only one who saw him was America.

During the first half hour, the quiet, orderly meeting room descended into utter chaos. Sealand snuck England's book back into his brief case, and returned to his ultimate hiding place- under the table. He listened to the conversation, as best as he could.

"You bloody frog! That's a _stupid_ idea!" Ah, that was Jerk-England. " Angleterre! How you wound me so!" Oh, and that was France. "Guys, guys, don't fight! The Hero will take care of it!" Definitely America. "SILENCE!" There went Germany.

The rest, as they say, is history. Literally. This happened _every freaking year._ It was getting old, pretty fast, or at least to Sealand. The next hour was considerably boring, so he ignored them, for the most part. His ears strained, to hear Germany permit a bathroom break. As the nations filed out, Sealand snuck back to his friends.

He told them about the boring things, when _some_ (precious little) stuff actually got done. Then he told them about the funny stuff, like Norway strangling Denmark with his tie (this garnered a laugh), and when Jerk-England fell out of his chair. When he was done recapping everything that happened, he made a mad dash back into the Meeting Room, and dived under the table.

Not a moment too soon, either, because at that very second, nations started trudging back in. As the meeting started up again, Sealand paid about half of the attention that he normally would. This was his first major prank! He hoped America would appreciate it. He usually did appreciate that kind of thing, so Sealand was hopeful.

The next hour and a half were rather uneventful, and passed by relatively quickly. Finally, there was only thirty minutes- Half an hour- until his prank would go off! Time seemed to slow down though; and half an hour seemed like three thousand years, even though it wasn't.

Finally though, there were only ten seconds left. Nine seconds... Eight... Seven... Six... Five... Four... Three... Two... One! Germany called out for lunch break, and Sealand was disappointed. Had the spell failed? Suddenly, America exploded in smoke! Nations who were previously preparing to leave, gasped.

When the smoke dissipated, there was no America anywhere to be seen. "America?" England asked, worriedly. No response, until a small, Blond-haired, blue eyed figure stood up in the chair America had previously been occupying. It looked like Sealand's prank had worked.

America said nothing, just looked at them. His eyes showed no prior knowledge of their existence. He didn't know them. This was a baby, barely two, if that. It was America though. Sealand worried, the book didn't say that it would take his memories. It had said it would make him _look_ younger. He had messed up the spell. Crap.

* * *

Phew~ So, what do you guys think? Should I leave it a Oneshot, or make it a story? I'll let you decide!

Also, in case you didn't know, the word Sealand was looking for is Pentagram.

*: It did, just so you know.

**: Finland, since he's Sweden's 'Wife'

***: I don't know if they do this outside the US and maybe Canada, but Shotgun is a (sort of) game. When you're about to get in a car, the person who says "Shotgun" gets the front passenger's seat.

Posted On: 2/11/13

Review if you want, especially if you want me to make this a story. No flames please. Flames will be used to cook Crèpes, and Flamers will not recieve one.


	8. Son of Man

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia! I Promise!

* * *

**SON OF MAN**

"Hey, America, who did you live with before Jerk-England?" That was Sealand. Such a cute kid. Canada sidled up, when he heard the question. He had never actually asked that before. America opened his mouth, to answer, saying " Just before England came? No one." Sealand was impressed. "Then how did you survive?" he asked, excitedly, hoping for a story. By now, the present Nations were listening, too.

"Well..."

-FlAsHbAcK oF dOoM-

Maska blinked his eyes open. It was his first day of life, and he was scared. It was cold, and he was hungry. He sat, shivering, for a long while. Eventually, a rabbit hopped up to him, and he smiled. The rabbit hopped in one direction, three times, before turning back to him. It stared at him, for quite some time, before he wobbled to his feet, getting the picture.

"Oh... Are you helping me?" He murmured. Imagine Maska's surprise when the rabbit _nodded_. Toddling after it as fast as he could, on such short legs, he continued to be led, until he reached a clearing. It was a perfect place for the baby- and he was one- to rest. By now the sun was rising in the sky, and it was steadily getting warmer.

-EnD fLaShBaCk Of DoOm-

"Is that it?" Asked Sealand, sounding vaguely disappointed. America laughed, and shook his head "No," he said "I'm just skipping the boring parts. Two whole _days_ before I met _him_" Everyone was listening to America, with rapt fascination. Sealand frowned "Who's _him_?" He asked. He was shushed immediately "I was getting to that." America said.

-FlAsHbAcK oF dOoM-

It had been two days since he met the bunny, who led him the clearing with the cave, and he was desperately hungry. He had had a very limited food supply, and so he was searching for food. As he searched through the woods, a crack sounded behind Maska, and he whirled around, just as a panther lunged for him.

With a startled cry, Maska shut his eyes tight. Nothing happened. Maska opened his eyes, curiously. When he cracked one eye open, he saw the panther, sitting there. It stared at him, and he stared at it, for the longest time. Eventually, it spoke, in it's panther language "Why- cub- forest." Maska, who was just learning the bunnies' language understood only little snitches of what the panther was saying. "C-can you say again slow, please?*" He asked, tripping over the strange language.

The panther repeated itself, but slower this time " Why is a cub, like you, alone in the forest?" It asked. Maska, once again speaking in the strange tongue, tried to answer "I am the land." this was what the bunnies told him to say, if anything ever asked.

~Time Skip~

** Maska stared at the plateau. He wanted to get up there so badly. It was probably safe, up there. After all, it was too tall for even Kin, the panther who had found him, to climb up to. He started to climb the plateau, struggling to get three feet off of the ground, before he fell. Maska scowled

AMERICACANADARUSSIAENGLAND

He was chasing the deer, because they always ran from him. He tried to run even faster, but he just couldn't. Instead, he tripped over a root, that protruded from the ground. He flew over it, and landed with a large SPLAT. Mud came up and slapped into Kin's fur. Oops.

FRANCENORWAYDENMARKGERMANY

Maska was hanging upside-down on a branch, pretending to be a squirrel. He let go, with one hand, so he could grab another branch, and he fell. He landed on the back of a deer. The deer was so surprised, that it shot forward, him still on it's back. Eventually, he fell off, and it kept running.

ITALYSPAINCHINAJAPAN

Maska was running through the woods, when he heard the scraping of claws on bark. Pirouetting, he punched a mountain lion (who was mid-pounce) square in the jaw. Surprised at what he had done, Maska stared. As the mountain lion began to recover, Maska jumped, and took off running, again.

ICELANDSWEDENFINLAND

Jump, reach, grunt. This was the process of climbing the tree he was in. It was an apple tree, and he so desperately wanted one of the shiny fruits. He snagged the most beautiful one he saw. After all, this was a reward. He had never been able to climb this tree until today. He was now the size of a five-year-old, and his short crow black hair was starting to lighten in color, not that he'd noticed.

It was only two days after the mountain lion incident, and Kin had been as impressed as his bunnies. Maska blinked his onyx colored eyes, lazily. Today was good. He had finally gotten one or the shiny fruits.

CUBATURKEYGREECE

Soft brown hair flopped in the breeze. Maska was seated at the very top of an ancient oak tree. He could see everything (or so he thought) from his vantage point. It was the celebration of his Eighth Year. He was going to try to climb the plateau again. This time, he was sure he could make it.

He began his climb, scrambling up the first five feet. He was being as careful as he could, for fear of falling. When he was twenty feet up, be started to slip. As he fell, he gripped the rock-face, and _slid_ down the plateau. When he reached the bottom, his hand were slick, and red, with warm blood.

Not this year, it seemed.

HUNGARYAUSTRIAPRUSSIA

On the day of the Celebration of Maska's Thirteenth Year, Kin's muzzle was growing grey. This was the day, Maska decided. He knew that Kin's time on the Earth was growing close to the end. He stepped towards the plateau. This time he would do it, to make Kin proud.

With ease, he scaled the first ten feet, as Kin watched from below. As he jumped from his place, on the rock-face, Kin tensed, before relaxing, as Maska landed on the ledge. The next twenty feet were scaled, slowly, for they were much trickier, and the surface of the rock was worn smooth.

As he rested on a small ledge- it was much smaller then the first one- he looked down at Kin, who's breathing was becoming shallow, fifty feet down. There were only fifty more feet to go, before the climb became easier. Maska threw himself back into the climb, sweating, under the hot, summer sun.

This was the hardest part of the climb, though Maska didn't know it, and after it, it was easy going. Then, suddenly, the unthinkable happened. He slipped. As he was falling through the air, he grabbed a chink in the side of the mountain, and pulled himself back up.

Gasping, and panting for breath, he continued the climb. Soon enough, he had passed through the hardest, and most dangerous part. Maska continued climbing, even though his throat was dry, and he was out of breath. His hands were blistered, and his back burned in the sun, but he kept climbing.

Eventually, he reached the top of the plateau, two hundred fifty feet in the air. Kin lived just long enough to see Maska reach the top safely, and in his dying breath murmured "Good, cub. From today until you die, you are no longer a cub, but an adult, a warrior." and when he finished saying this, he passed to the Spirit Realm.

Maska stood at the edge of the plateau, aches and pains forgotten, lost in his ecstasy. The wind carried up Kin's words to his ears, defying the laws of nature. He named the plateau Kin's Pillar, in honor of his now dead guardian, and the wind that had carried Kin's words The Guardian Wind.

Maska stood on the edge of Kin's Pillar, staring out, over the horizon. He felt one hundred thousand times wiser, suddenly. The Guardian Wind tore through his blond hair, and his eyes reflected the sky, that seem so close, he felt he could touch it. Kin was proud of him, he would make the journey across the Star Bridge, into the Spirit Realm that night.

-EnD fLaShBaCk Of DoOm-

"What happened next?" Sealand asked eagerly. America frowned "Nothing," he said "Maska live just long enough to get back down the mountain. He laid down, next to the dead Kin, for a nap, and woke up at the Star Bridge." Sealand let out a gasp. America smiled and began talking again. "Don't worry though," he said "Maska and Kin lead the dead souls, across the Star Bridge, now. At least, that is what the legends say." Sealand smiled, happioy, at this revelation.

"Why do they say that?" England asked, curiously. "Ah, they say that because the native americans found the bodies of Kin and Maska together, unharmed, and embraced. They thought them to be guardian spirits." America answered. Canada grinned. "And when Maska died, You woke up?" he asked his brother. America nodded in confirmation.

England shook his head "I always knew you were wild." he says, and America punches his arm. "I had a bunch of bunnies, and a panther acting _In loco Parentis_. I don't know what you expected from me." America states.

* * *

Just to be clear, nome of this was an actual legend. It's just my crazy imagination running away, with me in tow. In explanation of why Maska named the panther Kin, he just thought it sounded cool. Now, imagine what he'd say if he found out that Kin was a synonym for 'family'

*: It's meant to be said like that, because America is unfamiliar with Kin's language.

**: Turn on Son of Man, from the movie Tarzan, here and go reread it. Hopefully the song ends just as Maska reaches the top, and stares off of the edge.

Posted On: 2/12/13

I hope you enjoyed! If you did, leave a review, but no flames. Flames will be deleted, and Flamers will not receive a cookie.


	9. Magic

Disclaimer: Say it for me, Al.

America: Little Yellow Sunflower doesn't own Hetalia

* * *

**MAGIC**

It was a sunny afternoon, in America's house. Such was the nature of magic. It did the impossible, like turning a living room into a sunny afternoon. Magic was unpredictable, spontaneous. Well, his people's brand of magic was. After all, they could make it rain, by dancing. This was why he didn't always need words for his spells._  
_

He remembered telling England that magic wasn't real. He had felt bad about lying to England, about his magic, and felt even worse when he said that Flying Mint Bunny wasn't real- she had been present, for that, and he had apologized in private. America knew better, though, then to lay all of his cards down on the table, for everyone to see.

So when he preformed magic, it was in his native way, easily, and sometimes silently. The existence of magic though, had come with a price. It meant that the creatures of legend (Wendigos and the like) also roamed his land. With England, and the other countries' colonists, had come their legends. With their legends, came their monsters. America knew, that while stories created monsters, monsters created stories.

Thankfully, as his native legends grew older, and less known, the creatures themselves were disappearing. Snapping out his reverie, America went back to releasing his pent up magic. It was 'Meeting Week', so he couldn't use as much magic as he usually did. His reserves were massive, as a reward for using it so much, and, like his native people, it did _not_ like being penned up.

He changed the weather, in the field that used to be his living room, from sunny, to raining. He was good with weather magic. After all, it had been a large part of his southwestern culture. Rain pelted his bare back, and he sat, enjoying the coolness of it. Soon enough, he would have to stop, lest his reserves get too close to empty. He had been holding the spell for four hours.

When a knock sounded at his door, he quickly undid his spell, and his living room reappeared. He opened the door, to Canada. Canada took one look at his shirt-less form, and said "Ah, you were doing magic." before walking into the house. They both headed into the kitchen, and grabbed something to drink, before sitting down. Canada raised an eyebrow, as the window seemingly opened itself, the only tell-tale sign being the disappearing red sparkles.

Sometimes, when he did a spell that was straying away from his native kind, into England's type of magic, there would be sparkles. That was most common in England's magic. What with the Fae and all. His land did not have fairies. This kind of made him sad, the Fae were so nice. He'd talk to Tinkerbell, and see what she could do.

America flicked a finger towards the kitchen sink, where dishes were stacked tall. The dishes began washing, then drying themselves. Eventually, they put themselves away, too. Canada laughed, when his brother did this. "So lazy, Al." He teased, playfully.

America grinned, and shoved his shoulder, amusedly. They both stood up, and headed for the living room, as America put some shoes on. Jumping up and down on one foot, as he crammed the other into a shoe, as he grabbed his coat. Snagging his keys, America headed for the door.

When the two arrived at their destination, they climbed out of their cars. They were going to play Soccer, in the park. This plan was interrupted when Canada fell, with a sickening crack. He had snapped his leg bone, in a painful manner. With a gasp, Canada sat up. He hissed through clenched teeth, in pain. America bent down, and rested one finger on his brother's broken leg.

Healing magic was one of his fortes after all. Wind swirled around the two, catching loose leaves off of the trees, and tossing them about in a haphazard manner. He concentrated on flowing his magic into the bone, which began knitting itself back togther. Canada sighed with relief, as the pain dulled, and then disappeared.

America grinned crookedly, and pulled his brother to his feet- literally. Canada, who was no longer in morbid pain, grinned as well, saying "That's a handy dandy little skill, isn't it?" With a nod, America picked up the dropped ball. It was, actually, and if he hadn't had it, Canada would have spent at least two days in pain.

Forgetting what had just occurred, as if it hadn't even happened, they dashed off into the park, to play football. They gathered up two teams of random people, who wanted to play, and kicked off. In the end, they tied, six to six. Everyone was vaguely disappointed, but glad that they had played.

After all, they had had some very tough opponents, and almost everyone had learned something from it. America and Canada proceeded to play a game of keep away, for half an hour, before heading back to America's house. Cleaning their stained clothes with magic, America watched as the blue sparkles dissipated, and their clothes were spotless.

* * *

Blegh. That was surprisingly much harder to write then I thought it would be. I hope you enjoyed it anyway.

Posted On: 2/13/13

Review if you liked it! No Flames, though, please.


	10. Sleepy

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, people, no matter how much I wish I did.

* * *

**Sleepy**

Iceland blinked awake. The first thing that he actually managed to process was that it was cold in his room, and warm under his blanket. Shivering, he dove back under his eider down comforter*. Sadly, he didn't manage to fall asleep again, so half an hour later, when Denmark (why the fuck was he here?!) knocked on his door, he had to respond. "Yes?" He questioned irritably, as another, more persistent knock sounded.

"Iceland? Are you awake?" Denmark asked, through the -thankfully- locked door. Iceland poked his head out from under his blanket, to answer "No." He stated, sarcastically. Jeez, he had been around Norway too much lately. He was being _cynical_. Which, as opposed to his usual serious attitude, was incredible.

Denmark's grin could be heard in his voice, as he said "Well get up!" and rattled on the doorknob. Iceland knew better then to say something like 'Make me!' because, knowing Denmark, he _would_ kick down the door, and make him. Instead, he dragged himself out of his warm bed. Shuffling to the door, sleepily, he opened it, disregarding the Denmark shaped hole he made in the wall, upon doing so.

He shuffled/ stumbled into the kitchen, sleepily. Groping around the table for a cup of coffee, (he didn't care who it belonged to) he downed the entire cup in one go, and then moaned sleepily. Taking a seat at the table, he pressed his forehead into the wooden table, and then wrapped his arms around his head.

At this point, Denmark (who had managed to peel himself from the wall) walked in. He took one look at the empty coffee cup, and the seemingly asleep Iceland, and opened a drawer. He was hunting for a sharpie, when Norway came back, for his coffee. He grabbed the cup that sat by Iceland's elbow, and upon noticing that it was empty, raised an eyebrow.

"Who drank my coffee?" He asked, in a dangerously calm tone. Denmark knew that he could do only one thing: sell Iceland out. He quickly pointed his finger at the seemingly asleep Iceland. Norway glanced at him, and frowned "He's asleep. There's no way he drank my coffee." the norwegian man stated.

Thankfully, (for Denmark) Iceland chose this time to sit up with a groan, and grope around for even more coffee. Eventually, he grabbed Finland's coffee, and downed that, too. Norway seemed to believe Denmark, now, and grabbed Iceland's shoulder. Iceland, who had only _just_ managed to peel his eyes halfway open, flipped out, and fell off of his chair.

Now half awake, thanks to Denmark's laughter, and his short fall, Iceland glared at Norway. "Iceland, did you drink my coffee?" Norway asked, as Iceland sat back down, and once again laid his forehead on the wooden table. Wrapping his arms, once more, around his head, Iceland murmured "I don't know, probably." in the sleepiest tone Denmark had ever heard.

Deciding to take advantage of Iceland's sleepy, disoriented state, Norway said " Call me big brother." It was a demand, not a request. Iceland did not raise his head, as he stated "No." and snuggled his arms closer to his head. Denmark choked down laugh, with much difficulty. He could see where this was going.

"Big brother."

"No."

"Big brother."

"No."

"Yes."

"No"

"Yes"

"_NO_!" Iceland exclaimed, voice lilting until he sounded like a petulant child "You can't make me!" his tone now suggested that if Norway pushed the matter, he might cry. Norway and Denmark blinked. That was incredibly out of character for Iceland, who usually showed very little emotion.

Sweden coughed, and the other three were alerted to his, and Finland's, presence in the room. Finland took one look at Iceland, and laughed. "Oh! You woke him up before he was ready!" He exclaimed, between giggles. Sweden just shook his head, amused. Denmark then proceeded to make a lot of noise, trying to make a pot of coffee.

When Denmark started making this noise, Iceland covered his ears. By the time that the coffee was brewing, Iceland was making a pathetic whining noise. Finland started giggling again. With a scowl, Iceland sat up. Then, he stood up, shoved Denmark out of the way, and got a cup of coffee. He chugged the hot coffee, and poured himself another cup.

Sitting down at the table once more, Iceland blinked sleepily. Taking a slow sip of coffee, he moaned "Caffeine..." into the dark liquid. Eyes now almost completely open, Iceland looked around the table, and yawned out a quick 'Good morning' before sipping his coffee again.

Iceland had gone through a second cup of coffee, by the time Norway got to finish his, and was pouring a third cup. "What's up with you, Icey?" Denmark asked, nobody (save Finland) had ever seen him like this, before. "Don't ever call me Icey." Iceland warned, before answering his question "I was sleepy..."

Denmark roared with laughter over such a simple answer, ignoring the implied threat, completely. Norway and Sweden remained silent, as Finland giggled, and Denmark nearly busted his gut, from laughing too hard. Iceland drained his third cup of coffee.

As he poured his fourth cup of coffee, Finland reached for his empty coffee cup. Then, halfway to his lips, he noticed that the cup was, indeed, empty. His giggles stopped. He set the cup down, and, in a voice even more dangerous then Norway's had been, he asked "Who drank my coffee?"

Denmark, Norway, and Sweden reacted at the same time, and in the same way. They pointed at Iceland. Iceland froze, like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming SUV. He knew what was coming. Nobody drank Finland's coffee but Finland. "Iceland..." Came Finland's dangerously low voice.

He was fucked.

* * *

Wow. That took a lot more effort then I thought it would.

*: I have one of these on my bed, and it is fucking _awesome_! It's very fluffy, from the down, and it keeps me warm!

Fact: It was discovered that Finland bought and consumed more coffee then any other! Finland must sure love it's coffee!

Posted On: 2/14/13

Review if you want, but no flames, please.


	11. Game

Disclaimer: I most certainly do not own Hetalia. Or Call of Duty, for that matter.

* * *

**GAME**

America turned his X-box on, ready to play whatever game he currently had in the machine. Unsurprisingly, he had Call Of Duty: Black Ops in the disk player. He had been on a _huge_ kick lately. America flicked a second remote on. Common sense said that Canada would want to play. That and his sixth sense, that he seemed to have, when it came to his twin.

Loading his game, he settled quickly on zombies. Just as Canada walked in. His brother dashed over, immediately, and grabbed the second controller, jamming the start button down. With a wild grin, Canada noticed that he had gotten Dempsey as a player. That would probably mess his brother up. Dempsey was most likely his favorite character.

Canada was so sure about this, that when America crowed victoriously over having gotten Nikolai, he was really confused. Then again, Canada shrugged, it _was_ America he was talking about. Which meant that weird things tended to happen. Like that time they blew up Peeps in Germany's microwave, just to see Prussia's reaction. _  
_

America told him which barriers were his to guard. The one at the top of the staircase and the one at the bottom. America would guard the other two, and when they had two thousand points each, they would head for the door. One of them, anyways. The other would follow, and they would take turns buying doors, until they either found the mystery box, or made it to the stage.

The map was Kino Der Toten, and it was one of he maps they worked together best on. Round three rolled by, and America's character dashed for the door at the top of he stairs. Opening it, America maneuvered his character through the door, and bought the next one, just as Canada's character raced through the door with a "Hey player! I need some ammo!" Canada tried to catch up with his brother, who's character was waiting impatiently by the next door.

"Okay, you buy this door." America commanded, even though his brother knew the drill. Canada sacrificed one thousand two hundred fifty points to open the door. They were now in the Dressing Room. The mystery box wasn't there, Which meant it was either near the stage, or in the tiny room, by the ally. They hoped it was near the stage.

America's character rushed to by the door to the stage, zombies beginning to get closer. Once the door was open, Nikolai rushed across the backstage area, towards the power box. Once the power was on, and the curtain pulled back, Dempsy, Canada's character, rushed through the aisle between seats, and passed the mystery box (Yes!) to link the teleporter.

Right after he linked the teleporter, Canada dashed back to America, who was trying the damnedest to keep the zombies from chewing on his brother. With only one zombie left (a crawler(a zombie with no legs)), they took turns using the Mystery Box.

America came out with an RPK, which wasn't bad, considering the fact that it was only round five. Canada, however was not so lucky, and received a FN FAL. However, both were too low on points to try the box again,(not that America wanted to) so Canada received the privilege of knifing the crawler to death.

Canada suddenly cursed his awful luck at the box. A thick fog was rolling in. It was a dog round, so named because of the Hell Hounds throwing themselves at him, trying to rip flesh off of his character's digital body. Lightning crackled once more, and yet another Hell Hound arrived, tearing after America.

America was doing fine, if a little stressed. He even stepped in for his brother, if things got to crazy. By the end of the round, both brothers were reloading, so one of them could pick up the Max Ammo that the last dog had dropped. In the end, America finished first, and so he was the one to go pick it up.

As weapons spun by in the Mystery Box, Canada swallowed. Finally, he too was rewarded with an RPK. Happily, Canada threw out his pistol, in favor of the more powerful gun. The twins found it vaguely amusing, that they had both received the same gun, even if it had taken Canada two tries to get it.

As the next round started, America told his brother to get in the teleporter and stay there. Once the zombies were dangerously close to the teleporter, America pushed the X button. When they arrived up in the Projector Booth, they both dashed to the open window, and hurled lethal grenades out of it.

As they began fizzlin out of existence, Canada chucked his last grenade. As they arrived in a second room, the twins swayed around looking for a tape. America picked his up wih glee, as they fizzled out of existence again. Arriving in the Spawn Room, the two waited for the zombies.

When the zombies arrived in the Spawn Room, they both (Canada and America) twisted and shoved their joysticks around, running their characters up the staircase. America had three thousand points, and was seriously considering getting a perk. Canada, though, had only one thousand, and could not buy the perk he wanted.

As they ran the long way back to the stage, they occasionally stopped, to turn around and rain bullets into the mob of zombies, that were popularly referred to as a 'Rape Train'. As the duo racked up points, half listening to each other, half listening to the characters silly remarks, they managed to somehow make it safely (relatively) back to the stage.

However, since the teporter was still cooling off, they did their very best to avoid killing the remaining zombie, who was running. While Canada distracted the zombie, America left his brother's side, in favor of the Juggernog machine. Spending his (precious) points on a drink, America grinned.

Their strategy consisted went like this: Turn the power on, link the teleporter. After you link the teleporter, survive the round you're on. When the next round begins, get in the teleporter and wait for he zombies. Once the zombies are close, use the teleporter. After using the teleporter, lob grenades out of the window of the Projector Booth. After that, 'Rape Train' until you can link the teleporter again. Repeat process.

The only time you didn't use the strategy was when it was a dog round. At which point, you just tried your best not to die. As America moved his character over to the 'Speed Cola' machine, Canada was getting his Juggernog. They got as many perks as they could (excluding Double Tap(because it was in the Ally, and a pain in the ass to get to)).

Even so, America managed to Pack-A-Punch his RPK, when Canada tried the box again. His poor brother got another FN FAL when the 'Box from Hell' finished screwing with him. Falling into routine, the managed to get two more rounds before America wanted to use the box again.

Flipping the Mystery Box's lid open, America crossed his fingers. Weapons were spinning by at a rapid pace, and America was hopeful. When he received a Raygun, he cheered out loud. Canada knew that today must be his brother's good day. After all; he didn't have many if those with the box, and it was usually much better to Canada.

The two ran all through the 'Theater of the Damned', killing zombies as they went. Eventually, though, even the greatest players failed at some point. When the game finally managed to best them, it had been round twenty seven. Canada and America shared a grin. "Again?" America asked, as his hand hovered over the start button.

"Again."

* * *

Whew! I played a whole bunch of Nazi Zombies before writing this, and I just couldn't resist! I hope you enjoyed it!

Posted On: 2-18-13

Review if you want to see such crazy shenanigans as America and Canada blowing Peeps up in Germany's microwave.


	12. Peeps

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or Peeps. I do however, blow them up in the microwave. The Peeps, that is.

* * *

**PEEPS**

Canada wasn't entirely sure that this was a good idea. A hilarious one, yes, but good? Probably not, if he was honest. America had been stocking up on Peeps, for seemingly no reason. Now, however the reason was clear. It was diabolical, inhumane, and Canada couldn't wait to do it.

America was in Germany, and so was he, which was lucky. It wasn't a question as to _why_ they were in Germany, after all, the next world meeting started tomorrow. Currently, though, America was scheming. Which should have terrified Canada, even if the plan wasn't going to effect him that much.

Actually, he hadn't even gotten to know the plan, until they were halfway to Germany's house. His brother had explained it simply. They were to make sure Prussia saw what they were doing, so that they could gauge his reaction. If Canada was being honest, he would admit his interest in Prussia's reaction. He wanted to know what it would be.

As they arrived at Germany's house, America grabbed the boxes of Peeps. As they walked up to the front door, America stashed the Peeps in his bomber jacket (like a boss). Upon knocking on the door, they were greeted by Spain. Apparently, the other two thirds of the Bad Touch Trio were here, too.

Spain opened the door widely, and let them inside. As they walked towards the kitchen, they heard Spain tell them that Germany was running errands. America called his appreciation for the information over his shoulder, as Canada walked into the kitchen. Striding to catch up, America rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

As Canada opened the first package of Peeps (there were like, five of them), America located a cabinet full of plates. Placing a single Peep on the plate, Canada opened the microwave, put the aforementioned plate, and set it down. Adding in the random amount of time his brother had given him, he pressed start.

They repeated the process several times, laughing when the Peeps exploded. When the had finished the first box of peeps, there was a bowl of sticky deliciousness waiting nearby. Just as they put the first peep of the second box in he microwave, they hears footsteps down the hall.

Prussia walked in to see a little yellow bird in the microwave. He watched in morbid fascination as the bird swelled, and eventually exploded. The reaction was immediate, and he acted as though someone had been caught stabbing his best friend. "What the hell are you _doing_?!" Prussia shrieked, as America scraped the remains of the now exploded peep into the bowl.

Canada giggled, (in a manly way!) and said "We're blowing up Peeps in the microwave! Do you wanna try?" that was the final metaphorical straw. Prussia fainted, in the most awesome way possible. When he woke up, five minutes later, the second box of Peeps was empty, and Spain, France, Canada, and America were spooning warm, gooey marshmallow into their mouths.

Prussia gaped, as Spain stuck a finger in the (now empty) bowl, and wiped the remaining marshmallow off. Sucking on the finger, Spain turned to look at him, and said "Ah! Prussia's awake again!" several heads turned, to look at him. "The zombie lives!" joked America. Prussia glared at him, with the heated anger of ten thousand suns.

"What the fuck, guys!?" the ex-nation grumbled angrily. With a satisfied grin, Canada explained the situation to him. Prussia was a laid-back kind of guy, and thought the prank was hilarious, and told them so. America and Canada hi-fived, and offered to help the trio with a prank on the other nations, sometime.

Spain agreed, amiably, and promised to call them up, sometime, to plan a prank. France just laughed, and said "We'll see." several times. There was the noise of crinkling cellophane, and they turned around to see Prussia opening the third box of Peeps. The twins raised an eyebrow, in sync.

With yet another laugh, Prussia answered the unspoken question "I wanna try!" he said, excitedly. With insane, twin grins, Canada and America set the plate near Prussia's right elbow. Spain watched, excitedly, and France just obvserved quietly. They watched with mild interest as Prussia put a Peep onto the plate.

Sticking it in the microwave, Prussia pressed the start button, the Peep started spinning around, and it swelled to gigantic proportions (for a little bird made of sugar), the Peep looked hilarious in it's swelled state; and everyone laughed hysterically, then the Peep exploded.

The laughed roared even louder as the sugary creature burst. Pulling the plate from the microwave, Prussia scraped the delicious substance into a bowl. Suddenly, America was smacked up-side the head with another great idea. "D'you guys have any toothpicks?" He asked randomly, and was rewarded with a small box of them.

America took two Peeps, and set them on opposite sides of the plate, facing each other. Sticking a toothpick out of each Peeps' chest, he proclaimed (proudly) "Peep jousting!" and was met with two grins, a laugh, and a slow clap. Hitting the start button, America and the others watched as the birds expanded, before prodding eachother with the toothpicks that had been jammed into their chests.

The now huge marshmallow Peeps deflated, like balloons, who someone had let the air out of. They continued on, in this manor, until there was only one box of Peeps left, and some incredibly satisfied nations. "Let's leave this last box for West." Prussia suggested, as he rubbed his marshmallow filled stomach, happily. The other nations agreed, amiably, and shuffled off towards their respective vehicles.

Later that day, when Prussia was napping, in his room, Germany came home. As he walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, he took note of the box of Peeps. Putting away the groceries, that he had purchased earlier that day, he approached the box. Slicing the top of the box open, Germany stuck a whole Peep inside his mouth, while he searched around for a plate.

After all, 'Never look a gift horse in the mouth.'

* * *

So, a whole bunch of you guys wanted to see Prussia's reaction to America and Canada blowong Peeps up in the microwave. Peta is probably hounding after their very souls.

Posted On: 2/21/13

Review if you want to see something specific, because prompts help!

Eat, Sleep, Read, Be happy!

-Sunflower


	13. Misunderstand

Disclaimer: No matter how much I wish it was, Hetalia isn't mine. Neither (unfortunately) are The Beatles.

* * *

**MISUNDERSTAND**

It was a warm, sunny day, in mid-June, and America, Canada, England, and (possibly) France were going out to dinner. However, since this had been decided just after the meeting, America would have to go back to his house to change. England and Canada would be carpooling, for convenience, and so would be stopping at his house too.

As they drove down the road, towards America's place of residence, Canada chatted animatedly with his brother. It was the first time they would be going out to dinner, in quite some time. Ignoring the twins, England stares out the window, at a pasture, watching trees whip by. America turned the radio on, and the sound of The Beatles filled the car. Singing loudly along with 'Let it Be', the twins remained blissful.

After half an hour of driving through the backwoods, they arrived at America's house, which was in the middle of a forest, at the base of a mountain. After America parked the car, they walked up to the door, which America quickly unlocked. The door swung open easily after that, and they walked in.

In England's opinion, the huge house (mansion would have been an appropriate word) was entirely to large for one person. However, he kept that to himself, as they walked through the door. He watched America pull his sneakers off, and set them by the door. Canada had followed suit in that practice, and so England had pulled his own shoes off.

Just then, America crouched down, bending at the knees, and throwing his arms wide open, as if asking for a hug. Just after he had gotten into this odd position, the american bellowed "Felicity! Daddy's home!" as loudly as he could. England jumped at the loud noise, before he processed what had been said.

Before he could ask, feet came running down a staircase, somewhere above the three men. Turning to Canada, as quietly as he could, England asked "America adopted a child?!" in surprise. Canada, for his part, managed to keep a straight face, as he shook his head negatively, with a "No." of amusement.

England frowned, confused, as the now thunderous footsteps grew nearer. If it wasn't a child- and Canada said it wasn't- then what was it? Thankfully, before he could work himself into a tizzy, trying to figure it out, the answer presented itself.

A big dog came barreling down the staircase in front of them. It was a golden retriever, wearing a red bandanna around it's neck. The red cloth in question covered a collar, but if it hadn't the tag would have read: Felicity Jones. The other tag would prove that she had gotten her shots.

The dog, Felicity, showed no signs of slowing down, as she neared the trio. She slammed into America's chest, and licked his face furiously. The excited animal sat down, on America's command, and waited. As she waited for her 'Daddy' to come back, Felicity discovered the other two people.

It was Canada, who she knew, and someone else. Before she had the time to growl at this intruder, Daddy came back. He smothered her with soft pets, and kissed the top of her head, as he switched the red bandanna with a blue one. Then, he promised that England wasn't an intruder, and told her that he would be home late.

Running down the hall, towards the only bedroom on the first floor, America tugged the door open. Digging through his closet (which was quite extensive), America searched for what he needed. With a victorious 'Yes!', America pulled out a suit. Then, after donning the suit, he searched through his closet for Canada's emergency clothes.

Dashing back to the front room, he handed Canada the suit, and turned to England. The poor island nation was still staring at the dog, in surprise. Felicity, however, had jumped to her feet when America came back. With a laugh, America pet the dog again, as Canada came back, now wearing a suit.

They left Felicity at home, and went out to dinner, with France. When England asked America how Felicity behaved, France too, was confused. "America adopted a child?" He asked, confused. England smirked, and said "No." just like Canada had, and the three nations who understood the irony laughed, quietly.

France remained confused, and asked questions about Felicity during dinner. When the meal was finished, and the bill paid (and the waiter tipped), France was invited to come see Felicity, and stay at the house for the night. Taking America's offer (because it was almost nine o'clock at night), France was given the address to America's house.

Upon arrival, America once again took the position he had taken earlier that evening, and hollered "Felicity! Daddy's home!" much to France's confusion. "I though you said he didn't adopt a child." France whispered to England, who remained straight faced when he said "He didn't." quietly.

Footsteps ran down the stairs in front of the , anf Felicity Jones appeared once more. It was obvious that the shaggy dog was well cared for, hecause her soft, golden coat shone in the light. The dog also appeared to be quite mild tempered, a great dog for a family with small children.

France laughed at the dog's antics, as it slammed into America's chest, knocking him over. Felicity showered the sunny nation with great big licks, all over his face. Then, the dog seemed to realize that America was wearing a suit, because it jumped off of him immediately. America stood up, and led France to a spare guest room.

The next morning, at the meeting, France asked America if Felicity liked her clothes. When America cheerfully told him "Yep!" surprused, and confused murmurs erupted among the nations who had never met the dog. "America has a child?" The murmurers asked. "Or a girlfriend?" Some mused, thoughtfully.

America laughed, deeply, until his stomach ached.

_Here we go, again!_

* * *

Okie dokie! I always wanted a golden retriever... On a completely unrelated note; Send me your prompts, and headcanons! I'll try to write them!

Review if you want to see such shenanigans as America picking flowers. With Russia.

Posted On: 2-25-13


	14. Drown

Disclaimer: I have never owned Hetalia, do not own Hetalia, and probably never will own Hetalia.

Caution: Dark things abound!

* * *

**DROWN**

It was an accident, of that he was sure. They hadn't _meant_ for this to happen. Even the strongest, the bravest, and the biggest will fall at some point. Just like Rome fell. It didn't happen in an instant, no. It was slow, when you fell, and painful. Like drowning.

How ironic, then, that he should be drowning, at the moment. Drowning while his once proud nation fell, slowly but surely. He hoped that things would get better for his country, in his absence. That he wouldn't fall completely, and disappear. No, he had wanted to build a nation to last the ages, one that would never fade.

He had been naïve, he reflected. Opening his eyes, the murky light flooded in. How cruel, that he could see the surface, and know that he couldn't reach it. It would only be a matter of time, he knew, until his humanoid body gave in, and gasped for breath.

Not even a full minute, had he been down there, and yet, already he would be begging, screaming even, for help. If they could hear him. True to form, his lungs spasmed, pleading for air. His mouth wrenched open, and he inhaled deeply, unable to control it any longer. Water flooded his lungs, and for a moment, he was scared. Beyond scared, He was terrified.

Snapping out of the daze, as he water seared his soft lungs, he coughed. He coughed, wretchedly, and miserably, as his body tried to rid itself of the excess fluid. It wouldn't succeed, of course, as, with each cough, he grew weaker, and the need for air _screamed_ within him.

Once again, water rushed into his desperate lungs, and he wondered how long he would last until he died. Choking, he spluttered, never once did his head break the surface of the deceivingly glassy water. Nations could die and come back, as long as their nation still stood, of course. He wondered how many times he would die before he faded.

His people were resilient, so it would be many times, he thought. Many times would he die slowly, choking on water, in the steadily growing darkness. Over and over, the water would rush into his lungs, swaddling him, suffocating him. Oh yes, he mused, many _many_ times. They would not find him, and so he would fade here.

Black spots were appearing in his blurry vision. They tore through his line of sight, as his thought process slowed. His heart weakened. It was beginning to fail, without the necessary oxygen. Closing his eyes, he waited. He waited for he end to all his suffering. He waited to be born again, into this torture.

The nation's heart stopped. No longer did his lungs sear in pain, pleading for oxygen. No longer did the dark thoughts plague his mind. The angel of death caressed him softly, and he was at peace. As quickly as the agony had stopped, it began again, a new breath in his lungs.

The darkness clouding his mind did not move. Oh no. This was his punishment; he was sure of it. He was evil, a terrible scourge upon his land. It was only what he deserved. The light that had filtered through the water only minutes before was gone. The setting sun had laid to rest, just as his first death had arrived.

It was dark now, and he could see nothing. His wet clothes weighing him down; he tugged experimentally at the heavy rocks that had trapped his foot, damning him to his suffering. Luck was not with him that day, and the rocks did not budge. The aching had begun, seconds ago. He had little time before his lungs were once again filled with water.

He was afraid, oh so very afraid. Opening his eyes once more, he saw nothing; only the dark. That was when the agony began again. The accursed liquid surged forward, into his mouth, and therefore; his lungs. It ached horrendously, and he found himself wishing for the cold embrace of death.

He wanted them to find him, to save him from this Hell. To save him from the suffering. Anything would be better then this. In the dark, he choked again, coughing, painfully, to only speed up his death. Unable to free himself, or to make any noise, he thrashed. Fresh, new pain shot up his leg.

He screamed. He screamed until he couldn't scream, and then he whimpered. The water was cold, and uncomfortable, yet it sat in his lungs. It burned, it burned like fire, to be so desperate for air. His heart was slowing down again, but his leg was still shattered. Still painful, it reminded him that he was alive.

Alive, but not for much longer. He held on, really he did. In the end, though, he wasn't strong enough. To weak to even save himself, he lost the fight again, and succumbed to the darkness. His injuries were more extensive this time, what with his leg being shattered. That meant nothing, except that it would take longer for his body to heal itself.

Longer, he realized, then before. He would remain dead for a longer period of time. Not long enough to catch his breath, though. Once again, he returned to his life, only to die again. The cycle went on and on. Die, and come back to life, only to die again minutes later. By the fifth time he came back to life, he prayed, begged even, for the sweet release of death.

He was in agony every moment he spent in life, desperate for air. When the sun rose, the bright light filtered through the water. His fingers broke the surface of the water, he realized, as he came back to life, yet again. Clawing at the surface, he made ripples and waves. Still though, he was trapped.

As he, once again, prepared for his death, he couldn't help but think that he deserved it. He deserved this agony, and he knew it. Water ached in his lungs every second, and again, he passed. When he returned moments later, for the first time, he saw the glint of the sun, shining off of his knife.

This time, when he passed, the muddy water was stained red. Again and again, he had lacerated his tender flesh, hoping to end this torture sooner. He awoke, and once again clawed violently at the surface. Slapping his hands into the water; he tried to gain attention for himself.

As his eyes slipped closed again, he felt something enter the water. Water shifted around him, and the rocks were lifted from his foot, which was shattered from his thrashing. Too weak to swim, he made no attempt to escape. Strong hands hauled him to the surface, dropping his on dry land.

Water streamed from his eyes, mouth, and nose. Coughing, water came up, stained with the slightest amount of red. He gasped in air, for the first time in what seemed to be eternity. Safe, he registered, not falling. Not drowning. Rome, and many others before him had fallen.

However; there was one thing he had, that Rome had not. He had been saved, and there he lay, reflecting on the agony, the morbid pain, he had suffered from the suffocation. While he had been drowning he had realized it. He dis have something Rome hadn't had.

He had people to catch him, when he fell.

* * *

Well! How's that? That was my first time writing angst, and i'm rather proud of myself. I hope you can enjoy this depressing piece of work, and it's light-hearted ending!

Review the shenanigans you want to see, and maybe i'll write them.

Posted On: 2-28-13


	15. Post-Its

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, although I wish I did.

Note: Last chapter was purposefully vague, especially on who was drowning. That way, you could interpret it yourself.

* * *

**POST-ITS**

America was laughing, chest heaving from the effort. Canada had his hands clasped over his own mouth, so that he didn't laugh, as well. This was amazing. It was quite easily the greatest thing they'd done yet. It had taken hours during the early morning to set it up, but it was _perfect_.

The crazy twins had been up to something again, last night, and Denmark knew it, could feel the mischief radiating off of them. He didn't ask, oh no, not after the first time, but instead located his camera. Whatever they had done, it was going to be hilarious. He prepared himself for the prank, whatever it was.

-this is a line-

England was having a reasonably good morning, all things considered. He was concerned though, and for a good reason. America and Canada laughed quietly every time they saw him, and it was beginning to worry him. What had they been up to? Swallowing his feelings of apprehension, he finally asked them what was funny.

It was apparent that the question had been the final straw for the twin nations. They began laughing hysterically, until their bellies ached, and they had no air in their lungs. When the laughing stopped, America managed to stutter out an answer, still shaking from the laughter.

"N-nothing, nothing's f-funny." America giggled, suspiciously. Usually, the twin nations had excellent poker faces, and you never had proof that it was they who had pranked you. Today, however, was different. They couldn't seem to keep a straight face, no matter what, and it alerted nations.

Everyone was on guard, when they saw the giggling nations. Something was out of place, and they knew it. "Something is not right." France stated*. The rest of the meeting progressed normally, but the North-American brothers just couldn't stop giggling. It was worrying everyone else, and for a good reason.

Finally, the meeting ended, and everyone was glad to leave the tense atmosphere. Denmark was disappointed. They hadn't pranked anyone. Trudging out of the meeting hall, dejectedly; he heard England shout "Bloody Hell!". Denmark dashed for the door, tugging it open. Stepping outside, as quickly as he could, he surveyed the damage.

He started laughing, immediately. Brandishing his trusty camera, he took a picture of the chaos. This one was going in the Book of Pranks. The Book of Pranks was a photo album, with pranks recorded inside. The Book told how the prank had been done, as well as who had played it, and when.

Denmark had been taking pictures of chaotic pranks for quite some time, and this was one of the most brilliant ones he had ever seen. It was most definitely worthy of going in the Book. He watched as nations stared in shock, while the twin nations laughed, uncontrollably. Everyone's cars were covered in Post-It notes, except for Canada and America's cars.

The sticky notes covered every surface of the car that wasn't glass. There must have been thousands of notes stuck to the cars, in several different colors. Orange, pink, yellow, white, and blue notes overlapped each other, making a neon shell over the body of the cars. That in itself was pretty funny, but it got better.

America and Canada had taken the liberty to _write_ on some of the Post-Its. There were pictures and doodles decorating the notes. Smileg-faces, little animals, chibi drawings of the country that owned the car, even tic-tac-toe boards, all over the notes. 'Al n' Matt were here!' one car proclaimed.

Nations were getting over the shock now, and either laughed, or glared at the guilty brothers. America looked dejectedly at England, who was glaring angrily at him. The blue-eyed nation threw his arms open, silently begging for a hug. England melted, immediately. The anger drained out of the older nation, as he stepped forward.

Hugging the younger nation, he was oblivious to the sticky note, that was carefully places on his back. The note had a smiley-face, with glasses, and a Nantucket, And another one that clearly resembled Canada. Denmark took another picture, trying to keep his poker face. He wasn't succeeding.

England remained unaware of the note, as he gazed at his car. The notes covering his driver's side door were arranged to be a Union Jack, with pink, blue, and white notes. Some of the other notes had a sunshine and trees drawn on them. It was colorful Hell. Although, He reflected, it was indeed creative. Bonus points for that, Denmark awarded.

That wouldn't save America from the other nations though. "Run, Mattie, run!" yelled America, as he dashed for his car, laughing all the way. Canada reached his own car, relatively quickly, and the two nations tore out of the parking lot. Denmark heard America laughing, as he drove off in an vibrant, red Ferrari.

Denmark climbed into his Post-It covered car, and drove off. He wondered if he had and pencils, or crayons. Mentally facepalming, he pulled open the little compartment between the front two seats. Of course he had crayons. Sealand and he could draw on the car together, later.

* * *

Done! Ok, so this was inspired by a prank I saw the other day. Teenagers were sticking little Post-It notes all over their friend's car, and I thought it was hilarious.

*: Cookies, and photos for anyone who can guess where this is from.

Review if you want to see such shenanigans as Russia tripping into a kitchen table, or England and America having a fight over the existence of Doctor Who.

Posted On: 3-1-13


	16. Doctor Who

Disclaimer: I own neither Hetalia, or Doctor Who. I promise.

* * *

**DOCTOR WHO**

"I'm telling you that he doesn't exist!" England shouted to America, who was glaring angrily. "I would know!" The older nation insisted. America stomped his foot, childishly, before yelling "HE IS TOO REAL!" As though he were defending the existence of Santa Clause (who is totally real(shut up America)).

Scotland, who was also present, chuckled deeply. The red-haired nation leaned up against the kitchen counter, watching the two fight over The Doctor. America was on the verge of throwing a hissy-fit, and looked positively scary. England was losing patience as well, trying to explain such a simple thing to his idiot brother. The Doctor wasn't real, and he knew it.

"Ahh, England, maybe th' lad is right." The scottish nation rumbled, as he stirred up trouble. England's eye twitched, when America positively _beamed_ at his older brother. "He is not! Stop encouraging him!" England hissed, trying to calm himself down. He was not succeeding. Bugger.

"See! I told you so!" America stated, smugly. "Even Scotland agrees with me!" he said. England sighed heavily, as he stood up from the table. "He's not real America, so you need to get over it." the older man said, tiredly. Scotland was still leaning against the counter, but now a tumbler full of scotch graced his hand.

The youngest nation in the room frowned. "Of course he's real." America insisted, looking distressed. "He is real, and I _know_ it!" The blue-eyed man declared, jubilantly. He looked as though someone had told him that today was International Cupcake Day. He also looked incredibly smug, as though this declaration proved everything.

England was beginning to shout at the idiot when America's phone went off. Fumbling around with the noisy object, America managed to answer it. "Hello?" He asked, before smiling brilliantly. His facial expressions changed rapidly, before he said, exasperatedly "Again?" he looked like he wanted to smack something, or someone.

"Oh, no. No, now's good. He won't. Ahh, it's an ugly table anyway." America's stream of dialog was cut off by England shouting "HEY!" As though the younger man had insulted him personally. "Go right ahead, i'm sure he'll be pleased as punch to meet you." America answered questions on his phone, rapidly, seeming to invite someone over.

Shutting his phone, America grinned. "We'll be getting company in about, oh, say ten seconds." He warned, putting the phone into his pocket. Suddenly, a large wooshing noise was heard, before a large, blue box appeared, crushing the kitchen table, much to America and Scotland's amusenent (and England's dismay).

The door to the self-proclaimed Police Box swung open, and a mand stepped out. "Hello!" The aforementioned man greeted, brightly. "Oh, this _is_- or rather was- an ugly table." he hummed. "Doctor..." Said America, by way of greeting. Seeming to remember something, the nation started.

"Oh, Doctor, I almost forgot! That's England, and his older brother, Scotland." As he was introducing them, he pointed to them in turn. England was staring at the Time Lord, in shock. He blinked owlishly, when America stuck his head inside the TARDIS, befkre calling out 'Hello~!'.

"England!" The Doctor greeted the nation, happily, as he examines the remains of the table. "America says that you're his older brother?" The man half asked, as he straightened up. The surprised nation almost didn't answer, before he realized he hadn't reacted, and nodded

America, who until the point had been almost silent, hummed nervously. Whatever it was they had to do, Scotland figured it was important. The Doctor looked at America, before nodding, and said "You're perfectly right, you know." before bidding England and Scotland adieu.

The two men stepped into the blue box, and the door shut behind them. Moments later, the TARDIS disappeared altogether. They were off doing something crazy, and potentially life-threatening. The two remaining nations stood in silence, England's mouth opening and closing, much like a fish.

Scotland appeared to be at a loss for words, and didn't even attempt verbal communication. Instead, vying to sip his drink, quietly, as his brother processed information. It wasn't five minutes later, when the box appeared again. Out stepped a horribly tired America, his clothes semi-covered in a strange blue goo.

Once again, just as it had appeared; the TARDIS vanished. America stumbled, looking incredibly haggard, his shirt in tatters, before heading to go take a shower. When he was done, he would instruct England to burn them, offering no explanation, what-so-ever. He would do so immediately.

However, that wouldn't be for quite a while. As his younger brother stumbled out of the kitchen, England found his voice, once again. "My God." He murmured "My baby brother knows the Doctor." England stared at the remains of his table. Scotland just started laughing.

"Told ye the lad was right!" The red-haired nation chuckled, as he swilled his scotch around in the glass. England heard the shower turn on, as he swept the broken table bits up. Oh, he believed his brother now. America was right, The Doctor was real. Maybe next time, he could go to. He'd definitely ask.

Pulling another tumbler from a cabinet, England poured some scotch into his own glass. He got the feeling that he was going to need it. The two nations sat in relative silence, as they drank. After what seemed liked an eternity, the water stopped. When America came downstairs, fifteen minutes later, England tried to persuade him to tell them what had happened.

His effort was to no avail, though. America refused to tell. However, he received the ruined clothes, and instructions to burn them. He was to leave nothing but cinders. This command worried him, and he carried it out, as quickly as he could. He was totally coming along next time.

* * *

There we go! A Headcanon of mine, is that America knows the doctor personally. If anyone wants to write a crossover where it explains the blue goo, be my guest, but please, give me some credit.

Review if these shenanigans were to your liking. Or if you like Doctor Who

Posted On: 3-3-13


	17. Santa Clause

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Hetalia. However, I _am_ in possession of a big, fluffy blanket. U jelly?

* * *

**SANTA CLAUSE**

It was nearing Christmas, and everyone was in the Christmas spirit. Bright colors adorned the rooms of the meeting place, splashing it in reds, greens, and golds. Nations everywhere were in great spirits, even if they had to go shopping for presents. It was snowing outside, and hot cocoa was prepared, steaming in the mugs.

Turkey and Greece weren't at each other's throats, France and England had stopped fighting, and Russia was slightly less creepy, in honor of the season. However, no one, it seemed, could top America. He dressed no different, but he would never object to company. Everyone was his friend during the holidays.

America had bounced around, going from store to store, getting presents for everyone. Wrapping them was exciting, and no two gifts were alike. Paper snowflakes lay around, on tables, and mistletoe was craftily hung up in unexpected places. He'd told only Russia where they all were. Belarus was very strange about that sort of thing.

Preparations were made for the Nation's Christmas Party, which was not to be mistaken for Austria's Christmas Ball. Austria's Ball was held on Christmas Eve, but the party would be held a week before. Generally, everyone showed up to that, as well as the Ball. That was why America was frantically organizing everything. It was his turn to set up the party, this year.

Sighing in relief as he finished plating snacks (and started preparing dinner), America sat down, exhausted. Gazing around the heavily decorated room, he admired the fruit of his labor. A Christmas tree sat in the corner, all of the presents America had purchased and wrapped underneath it, shining in their colorful wrappings.

His eyes swept the room, taking in every little detail. Tiny paper snowflakes adorned the tables, as real snow fell outside and fairy lights twinkled in the semi-dark room. Snack foods were spread out along a table, by the farthest wall from the door. Everything was perfect, in America's mind. Soon enough, nations were arriving.

Sweden and Finland were first, dressed warmly. They both greeted America, before placing the presents that they had brought under the tree. They were soon followed by the other three nordics, who also carried in presents. Denmark walked over to America, and greeted him, loudly.

Shaking his head, Norway also accompanied the loud nation. With a nod as greeting, he silently gestured to Iceland. Poor Iceland had been left to carry all of the presents, and looked quite strained. With a bark of laughter, America pointed out the tree bedecked with baubles and garlands to Iceland. The grateful nation set them down.

After the nordics, Canada arrived. He had been helping America, but had left to get his presents from his house, and several things from the store. Drafting Denmark and Sweden to help him carry all of the gifts, he waltzed past his brother, with a grin. By now, the tree looked like it was drowning in presents, and America was glad that he had a second tree, in the other corner. Canada, Denmark, and Sweden set the presents down at the present-less tree.

After that, nations were arriving left and right, and the previously empty room was buzzing with cheer, and festivity. It was a fairly lively party, but one person was missing. It was Russia, who would be arriving late. America hadn't asked why. After all, everyone deserved their privacy.

When Russia finally arrived, he was just in time for dinner, and was covered in snow. He made no move to tell them why he was late, and nor did anyone ask. America greeted Russia cheerfully, and then dinner was devoured by hungry nations. Wine, brought by France, was sipped slowly.

After the explosion of flavors that is known as Christmas Dinner, everyone settled down. Comas induced by full stomachs and warm temperatures were setting in, quickly. Seeing siestas in the imminent future, America called out a single word that had everyone wide awake, in mere seconds. "PRESENTS!"

The sound of shredding paper filled the air, as America, Canada, and Finland distributed presents like it was their job. When the only remaining presents left belonged to the distributors, they stopped to open their own gifts. "Hey, America?" Finland suddenly asked "Do you believe in Santa Clause?" as he opened a gift from Denmark. It was a scarf.

America scoffed, saying "What a stupid question." Finland looked crestfallen, just as America tacked on "Of _course_ there's a Santa Clause!" as he tore open a gift of his own, from Prussia. The contents remained hidden from view, as he grinned, and shut the box. Finland was beaming, as he opened another present. By now, everyone was nearly halfway done with opening presents, and were drinking cocoa, and comparing gifts.

Norway was pestering Iceland, with the same thing as usual. Iceland was having none of these shenanigans, and instead sipped cocoa quietly. Denmark was laughing, as he opened another present, this one from Canada. Sweden sat near Finland, opening his own gifts, in near silent joy. With one ear, he listened, amused, to Norway and Iceland.

"Big brother."

"No."

"Big brother."

"No."

"Big brother."

"No."

"Come one, Iceland, it's Christmas." Norway finally said, on the verge of giving up, already. Iceland blinked ,silently making no move towards saying the requested pet name. Norway looked crestfallen, if you knew what to look for. Finally, after a long moment of silence, Iceland's lips parted. "... Big brother."

Everyone was gleeful, as they bragged about the presents they had received. However, it was agreed on who had gotten the best present. It was the nordics, who had gotten fish hats, in the colors of their respective flags, from America. The party continued for quite some time, each nordic donning their new hat.

Austria and Hungary were under a sprig of mistletoe, and Japan was taking loads of pictures of everything. Prussia, Spain, and France were all discussing their presents, and what they had gotten for other nations. Even Russia wasn't avoiding Belarus. He was, however, skillfully avoiding the mistletoe.

Eventually, though, the party ended, and everyone was leaving. America stayed behind, as opposed to going home, to clean up. As everyone left, Finland stumbled tiredly to his car. America's words from earlier that evening ringing in his ears. 'Of course there's a Santa Clause!' He had declared.

He had sounded so convinced of it, as well. America was absolutely positive that there was a Santa. When he arrived home, Finland stumbled into bed. Tugging the blankets up, he snuggled into his pillow. The last thing that he registered before he fell asleep was 'America is _so_ getting extra presents this year.'.

* * *

Another chapter, so soon! Well, this grabbed ahold of my brain, and refused to to away. This is laughably out of season. You know what though? Who freakin' cares?!

As always, review if you want to see more craziness~

Posted On: 3-4-13


	18. States

Disclaimer: I dinnae own Hetalia. I sorta wish I did.

Look at me, jumping on the bandwagon! Aren't you proud?

* * *

**STATES**

Chaos reigned in America's house, children, micro-nations, and nations came and went as the homeowner sipped his cup of coffee. It used to be quiet, he reflected. He didn't regret anything, though. He remembered the day the chaos had started, with stunning clarity.

-FLASHBACKOFDOOM-

It was warm, and sunny. Barely any clouds dared block the hot sun. Russia was powering through the weather, like the badass he was. Wearing a scarf and a long coat during the middle of June is nothing short of suicidal, where America lived. It was a sweltering day, even in such a hot place, and almost nobody was outside.

Russia was spying, today. Not for political, or military reasons, actually. He was looking for blackmail material. After all, you can _never_ have enough blackmail. He skulked around outside, for a time, before moving to the spot he had found, for his task. He crouched down, trying not to be seen. It wouldn't do for America to catch him, now would it?

Meanwhile, America was rushing around his house, laundry baskets in hand. As he got to the first bedroom, he looked at the contents of his baskets. Selecting the correct one, he set in on the ground, and knocked. Then, he sped off, to get the rest of the clean laundry delivered. Half an hour later, he was finished, and there was no more dirty laundry to be washed, either.

America was now seated at the head of the dining room table, sipping a cup of coffee. Somebody walked into the roon behind him, just then. Barely turning in his seat, America saw who it was. It was his youngest son, Hawaii. The boy had black hair, and golden skin. In fact, the only thing that made him resemble his father were his eyes. His eyes were a vibrant blue, and currently, they were trained on his father.

Even though the boy's name was Hawaii, America still named his children, all fifty of them. The names he had given them were human names, to be used in public. Each and every one of them had the last name 'Jones'. When Hawaii was born, he had allowed his two oldest children, Delaware and Pennsylvania to name the baby.

An argument had arrisen, because Pennsylvania and Delaware couldn't agree. In the end, though he had been named by America's youngest daughter, Alaska. She had given the name 'Lo lani, the Royal Hawk. The oldest two states had loved the name, and called Hawaii 'Little Hawk', almost exclusively. Very rarely did they call him by name.

Hawaii was approaching his father, an inquisitive expression on his young face. "Daddy, where's Alaska?" He asked, curiously. America grinned widely, and pointed up the staircase. The little hawk took off running, headed for his older sister. America shook his head, amusedly. It was then that he heard a loud "Shit!" from one of his older states. The shout was followed by some loud thumping, that had America running into the living room.

Massachusetts was lying in a heap at the bottom of the stair, biting his lip, obviously trying to to cry. The teen had fallen down the stairs, and shattered his ankle. America ran over to his son, and scooped him up, as though he were a kitten. Thankfully, the States had the healing rate of a Nation, so the ankle would be better in mere hours.

For now though, the teen was in morbid pain. "Shhh, Mason. I gotcha, daddy's gotcha." America cooed, as he scooped up his injured child, and laid him on the long, sleek, black couch. Frowning at his son's pain, he flicked his wrist towards the kitchen. A bag of ice came floating out a few moments later. Setting in on the table, for when the ankle was healed a bit more, he America asked the question Massachusetts 'Mason' Jones had been waiting for.

"How did this happen?" America inquired, as Massachusetts closed his eyes. The teen gave a simple answer. "Hawaii left his toy ships in the hall by the stairs, again. I tripped over them, that's all." Massachusetts assured his worried father, who frowned and started for the stairs. He was presumably going to go have a few words with his youngest brother.

Russia had long since absconded, by the time another one of Massachusetts' siblings drifted by. This was one of his younger brothers. "Hey, Austin." The injured state greeted, weakly. The teen, Austin, looked at him for a few moments, regarding his broken ankle. Then, the tall state nodded in aknowledgement. Massachusetts was pleased with this, knowing it was as good as he was going to get.

Austin was the representation of Texas, and wore glasses. He was very tall, almost as tall as his father. He was only four inches shorter, in fact. The blond teen was very quiet, and almost never spoke. Even when he did speak, he only spoke to two people, their father, and Oklahoma. That was why when he spoke to Massachusetts, the older state was shocked.

Texas stood, sky blue eyes watching his brother. "Hey, Mas'n..." He murmured, in a soft, deep tone. If Massachusetts hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed Texas had actually spoken. By the time he regained composure, The younger state had already drifted away.

Massachusetts was sleeping soundly, by the time anyone else shuffled through the living room. Yet another blond teenager passed through the room. This teen's name was Henry, and he was the representation of New York state. Taking one look at his brother, New York shook his head, and went off to find New Jersey and New Hampshire.

He left the room just in time to avoid his father, who came down the stairs, looking haggard. With a heavy sigh, America flopped down on the other couch, and promptly fell asleep. He woke up two hours later, and, upon glancing at the clock, rushed for the in the kitchen were two of his sons, waiting for him.

It was New York, and Louisiana. Louisiana took after his father in very few ways, looking very much like a younger France. The only ways he took after his father were in magic, and in the shade of blue his eyes were. The blue was a special shade, the states had decided. None of the other nations had eyes quite like their dad's. It was exclusive to America and his states.

America gazed at his two sons for less then a fraction of a minute, before rushing to get dinner on the table. Halfway through the cooking, a knock sounded at the door. "Henry, Jean Luc, take over for me! I have to go get the door." America said, as he dashed for the front door. "I'll get it, Papa!" Shouted Pennsylvania, as she neared the door. America turned the corner just in time to see his daughter greet England an France.

-FLASHBACK END-

After that, it had been nothing short of crazy, and everyone knew it. Pennsylvania, bless her, had tried to keep some semblance of normalcy, but that was easier said then done. His daughter's dirty blonde hair was tied in a braid down her back, that day. She came waltzing in, dark green eyes shimmering in excitement. "Papa-" she was cut off by America, who said "So it begins again." in serious tones.

Really though, he wouldn't trade his family for the world. He loved his kids to pieces, and they knew it too. Even Wyoming knew he was loved by his father, even though many of his brothers and sisters forgot about him sometimes. They wouldn't trade their father for anything. In their eyes, he was perfect.

* * *

Aren't you proud of me, jumping on the bandwagon? Actually, this has been rolling around my head for months. It was about time I got off my lazy ass and wrote it...

Review if you liked it, and would like to see more things involving the states!

Posted On: 3-10-13


	19. Minecraft

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or Minecraft. I also don't own Skype.

* * *

**MINECRAFT**

It was raining in Sweden, when Iceland found the country himself seated on the couch, with a laptop. The other nation didn't seem to see him, absorbed as he was with whatever he was currently doing. Sweden was typing furiously, occasionally pressing the spacebar with such force Iceland thought it would break.

After several long moments, Sweden seemed to acknowledge his presence, by mumbling out a greeting. " 'Lo Icel'nd." He stated without looking up, clicking rapidly with the plug-in mouse. Iceland returned the greeting with a single nod, before realizing that Sweden couldn't see him.

Flushing ever so slightly, Iceland finally verbalized his greeting. "Hallo, Sweden." He said as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. After several more long moments, it became painfully clear that Sweden was not going to say anything else. Walking out of the room, Iceland went to go find Finland.

After Iceland left, Sweden remained where he was. He stopped briefly, pulling up a Skype call with America. Plugging a headset into the laptop, Sweden looked up to America's wide grin. "Hang on-" America mumbled, clicking around on his own Skype. Suddenly, Canada's face appeared on the screen, headset resting on his crown.

"Alright! Hey, Mattie, you got your browser up?" America asked, as Sweden stood up, and went into the office. He half listened to America and Canada's chatter, as he pondered something. Very rarely did anyone actually do paperwork in the office, instead vying to play video games where no one would hear you yell at your team-mates, or friends. So, why then, Sweden wondered, was it still called the office?

Giving up on the question, Sweden minimized the Skype call, and pulled up his Minecraft browser. Setting up a server, he watched as America's character loaded in. Much to Sweden's eternal amusement, America's character name was Gamer-Bro Al. Canada's character name was much the same; it was Gamer-Bro Matt.

Granted, Sweden reasoned, there was probably a story behind the names, but he wasn't going to ask. Looking around, he recognized the biome his character (Nordic-2) was in. It was a plain old forest biome, with sheep and chickens everywhere, making it one of the easier places to survive. Though, that was his own personal assessment, and other people might think differently.

"Okay, guys, what first?" Canada asked, quietly. He had never played Minecraft, before, and was reasonable excited. America started giving his brother the run-down, collecting wood all the while. Sweden had already constructed a Crafting Table, and was currently on a murder-spree, killing sheep left and right with the wooden sword he had crafted.

Laying on the floor, drumming his feet on the carpet, Sweden was content. An hour later, Iceland found him again. Crouching down to look at the screen, Iceland asked what he was doing. This time, Sweden replied, telling him about Minecraft, having switched the microphone on his headset off.

When he finished, Iceland left the room, only to return a few moments later, his own laptop in hand. Flicking the light back off, he dropped down on the carpet with Sweden. With a few clicks, Iceland had downloaded the game, and was pulling up the browser. Glancing at Sweden, he entered a username. Nordic-5 was just fine by Sweden, and Iceland agreed silently.

Sweden pulled Iceland's laptop towards himself, pulling up a Skype call with the three other nations. Then, he stood up and rummaged around the drawers of a desk. When he found what he was looking for, he handed it to Iceland. As he returned to his game, Iceland plugged the gifted headset into the laptop.

Loading into the server, he started doing what he figured would help. That is, he started collecting wood, as he waited for Sweden to come get him, and lead him to the others. As time went by, so did their progress in-game. When Iceland had arrived at the plains biome where the others were staying, they had crafted him a bed, while he built a shelter for himself.

Comparing his house to Sweden and America's houses, it looked sub-par. Oh well, Iceland figured, it's functional at least. When they weren't building, they were mining. Canada had accidentally fallen into a ravine at one point, and died from fall-damage. Thankfully it was relatively nearby, and America came along, with a bucket of water.

Eventually, Sweden decided on a new build project, and they were drafted to help him. He wanted to build a wall around their houses, to keep mobs out. Not a little wall though, he wanted to make a big wall, like a castle might have. Since there were four people building together, the wall took only half an hour to construct.

However, when the wall was completed, their houses looked dull in comparison. It was agreed on, that they should dismantle their respective houses, and combine the materials into one big house. Iceland and Canada were in charge of dismantling the old houses, while Sweden and America built the new one.

Getting bored, as Sweden and America constructed their new house, he grabbed his sword and a bunch of pork chops from his chest. Then he crafted a flint and steel, and looked at Sweden imploringly. Everyone took a break, then, to go find a village to raid. It was America who stumbled upon the first one, and everyone raced to his position.

Canada began stealing the wheat and carrots from the farms, taking all of it. Sweden was no better, thefting the villager's bookshelves. Iceland was the most easily swayed, taking the walls from the huts, and anything inside the huts he was allowed. America was at the forge, and promptly grabbed the furnaces, before checking the inside of the building.

There was a chest inside, much to his delight. Opening the chest, he grinned widely. Inside the box were two diamonds, an obsidian block, and a single potato. With a joyous "Yes!" America moved his character back outside, and proceeded dismantling the forge, yet again.

Iceland soon grew bored of taking apart houses, and began killing villagers left and right, laughing quietly. Then, he set the village on fire, and stepped back to admire his handiwork. Thankfully, America, Canada, and Sweden had seen Iceland start the fire, and had left the village.

Unfortunately for the giggling Iceland, Norway had been in the doorway for quite some time, watching him joyfully murdering the villagers. Flicking the light on, Norway closed the door behind himself. He smirked when Iceland and Sweden both jumped. "Finland wanted me to make sure you were still in the land of the living." Norway stated, blandly.

"Obviously you are." having said his piece, Norway promptly left the room, lights shutting off as he closed the door. Iceland received a lighter from Norway at his next birthday. With a silent nod, the two both turned back to the screen. It would be hours later before they would finally surface, just in time for dinner.

The next Saturday, they would both disappear into the office. Soon enough, It became a routine, and every Saturday, all four would log on. They would play Minecraft all day long, and go their separate ways at around dinner time. Sweden and Iceland's dinner time anyway. America and Canada, it seemed, never slept. Next week, they would meet again, in their castle. Their castle where friends met, and interesting things happened.

That, my dears, is how Iceland, America, Canada, and Sweden became good friends.

* * *

Well! I was playing Minecraft, today, and this smacked me upside the face. It was made even better because I have a headcanon that these four are friends.

Also; Minecraft comes from Sweden! How exciting!

Review if you've ever built something really cool in Minecraft!

Posted On: 3-16-13


	20. Time

Disclaimer: I dunnae own Hetalia.

* * *

**TIME**

America twisted a blade of grass between his fingers, lost, deep in thought. He had been sitting there for a good while, staring at the sky, and wondering. The youthful nation had been feeling uncharacteristically philosophic when he had wandered out to the meadow that was nestled between the woods and reality.

He had sat down, and closed his eyes for a short while, hoping that the somber feeling would pass. When it hadn't, he had opened his eyes, and lifted them skyward. America was thinking about time. He had become lost in thought almost immediately, slipping into the limbo like state of being that was daydreaming.

Time was sporadic, immeasurable, insurmountable, and unstoppable, America had known this as long as he could remember. Nothing could outlive, or outlast time. Buildings decayed, rivers ran dry, mountains crumbled in the face of time; nothing was forever.

America was young, and he didn't totally understand the way of things. Hell, even China didn't know the way of things. The older nations were comfortable in their knowledge; didn't seek to grow or expand their information on the matter. They thought they already knew it all.

They were prepared to crumble, to fall, they claimed. That was wrong though; no one was _truly_ prepared to disappear, especially not nations. The greatest nations the world had ever seen, the immortal empires, even they had fallen. Nothing could stop time. That was why it was feared.

So why should he be any different? Why should America be so brave? Why wasn't he scared of time? Everyone was scared of time, even if they didn't know it, so why was he so bold? America wasn't afraid of time, no. He wasn't afraid, because he knew time wasn't to be feared. Even when he was falling, when all of the nations had crumbled to dust, America knew that something else would come about.

Time brought about death, destruction, and ruin. It was fearsome, and relentless, digging sharp fangs into everything. It ground the most powerful of empires to dust, in the end. Time was to be respected, for it was strong.

Time could destroy you, young or old. Sometimes the only thing between life and death was a split second; too sudden to realize. That second could save you from being shot, or caught in a burning house. Or it could crush your hope, and damn you to death. Every eight seconds, someone dies.

However, Time also brought new life, and growth, and joy. It was sweet, and happy, and bright. It cradled you softly, as you drifted through your life, passing slowly. It brought up the greatest empires, just as it knocked them down. Time was to be revered, because it was constant.

Time made trees grow, flowers blossom, and day turn to night. In time; sicknesses are cure. In time; pain lessened. Every three seconds, a baby was born. Every three seconds, a new, precious life entered the world. Every three seconds, the future was crafted, shifted, and redesigned.

America wasn't afraid of time, because he was sure of one thing. He wasn't afraid of time because he could think of no greater when to be. His family was here; England and France were here, with Canada. Even more a reason to stay were his friends. He had many friends who he adored, and who adored him. He wasn't lonely. America wasn't afraid of time because he knew he wasn't lonely, because there was nothing _to_ fear.

He didn't remember closing his eyes, but he had, for the world was pitch black. Opening his eyes, America stirred out of his thoughts. The sunshine was bright on his face, warming him from head to toe. Someone rested their hand on his shoulder, before he could close his eyes again. Upon turning around, he saw his brother Canada. Behind Canada, and his smiling face, were England and France, and his friends. Standing up, America laughed honestly; it was free and true, ringing with happiness.

His friends laughed too; happy in the moment. Everyone was smiling, and it made America happy. In that second; that small, forgettable second, they found true happiness. Everyone was hugging, and laughing; glad to be with each other. They stayed like that until sunset.

America was the last to leave, standing in the center of the flower field. He was alone now, but he wasn't scared. Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a note, that was folded. He gazed at the slip of paper in his hands for only a moment, before throwing it into the wind. It didn't mean anything, anymore. Turning, he left for his car.

* * *

Okay guys, that's what happens when I feel philosophical. Before you ask what the note said; I left it entirely open to you guys. It could be a suicide note, or everything he found wrong about himself, maybe it said he was going to disney world; it's up to you.

Review if you like my philosophic tangents!

Posted On: 4-1-13


	21. Little Yellow Sunflowers

Disclaimer: I still don't own Hetalia, unfortunately.

* * *

**LITTLE YELLOW SUNFLOWERS**

It was one of the _strangest_ things England had caught him doing, America admitted. After all, it wasn't often the he could be found alone with Russia. Especially if the two weren't fighting, or being inherently nasty to each other. First time for everything, he guessed.

It wasn't just that he was alone with Russia that was strange. No, it was what he was _doing_ with Russia that had everyone looking at him like he was insane. Actually, he probably was.

Russia liked to think of himself as a serious, proud nation. However he had to admit, this was probably one of the silliest things that he had ever done. It wasn't just silly, he admonished his thoughts, it was absolutely ridiculous. Somehow, he found that he simply didn't care.

The gathered nations were all looking at America. Granted, they were in a strange position. It wasn't often (read: ever) that the two of them were alone, yet not fighting. Oh well, he supposed there was a first time for everything. He remembered how this stupidity had begun, with stunning clarity.

-Flashback of DOOM-

America hadn't shown up to the meeting, and Germany was pissed. England, however, was considerably worried. It was apparent that he was under the impression that something was wrong with America. The nation was always at the meetings, even if he never paid attention. After voicing this opinion, Germany admitted defeat.

Russia wasn't giving a powerpoint that day, so they handed him some directions, and sent him off to find the missing nation. When he eventually got to America's busy come-and-go abode, he walked up to the door, and knocked. A few minutes later, the door swung open, and he was pulled inside quickly. The door shut behind him, as he was tugged along.

America continued dragging the confused nation, until they reached the kitchen, where he released him from his vise-like grasp. "Whatcha need, big guy?" the sunny nation asked, happily. Russia blinked a few times, before answering. "Amerika, the meeting is today. They sent me to get you, because you are late." He hummed.

America froze when he heard the word 'meeting'. Looking quite like a deer in the headlights, America looked Russia straight in the eyes. Then, he took a deep breath, as if to steady himself- and bolted.

America dashed out of the kitchen, and into back yard before finally making it to the woods that started about half an acre away. With a rather put-upon sigh, Russia tore after him, maintaining a steady gait. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally caught a glimpse of honey blond hair, among the trees.

Turning as quickly as he could, Russia chased after the now fleeing nation. As the trees began to thin, the distance between them grew shorter, until Russia eventually bowled him over. With an 'oof' America collided with the dirt. Scrambling back to his feet, he was met with the sight of an unresponsive Russia.

America shifted until he could see what had captured the attention of the taller nation. It was his field. The place was absolutely beautiful. Flowers poked up from the soil, decorating the ground. The entire area was bathed in colors, from vibrant reds to soft yellows. Russia vaguely registered this, hard pressed to tear his eyes away from their current focus.

Russia was looking at the sunflowers.

-End Flashback of DOOM-

America had proceeded to assist Russia in the manly task of picking flowers. Grabbing the larger nation's hand, America once again dragged him along. Upon reaching the other end of the field, he let go of the other's hand and the sheer idiocy had begun. At least it was_ fun_ idiocy.

Hours later, the other nations (led by Canada) finally found the pair lying in the ground, breathless. Beside the panting nations, resting on America's jacket, was a pile of little yellow sunflowers. It was painfully obvious what they had been doing. As was expected England was disapproving, and Germany was furious.

The rest of the nations had varying emotions on their faces. A few were annoyed, some were flat out angry, and some were cracking up. Italy was just smiling, oblivious to the angry Germany's tirade on 'responsibility'. He was memorizing the scene so that he could paint it later. He was so happy when nations got along.

It was thirty some minutes before Germany stopped ranting, and England dragged America away. Russia stood up, dusted himself off, and walked away. As he was leaving, he heard America shout "See you tomorrow, Russia!" as loud as he could. Shaking his head, the large nation half-smiled.

Yes, he'd definitely see America tomorrow; after all, he'd forgotten his coat.

* * *

After an eternity and a half, I finally got this finished! Apparently, lots of you guys wanted to see America and Russia picking flowers together. Here you go!

Review if you want to see more states, or Canada and America having a scuffle over the merits of cupcakes.

Posted On: 4-22-13


	22. Cupcakes

Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me.

* * *

"Chocolate!"

"Vanilla!"

"Chocolate!"

"Vanilla!"

The two brothers had been arguing for ten minutes now. It wasn't often they fought, but when they did it was terrible. Sometimes it was deafeningly loud, and other times almost silent. Either way, sometimes people got hurt, and there was almost never a victor.

"Chocolate!"

"Vanilla!"

"Red Velvet!" A third voice tried to join the fray, only to be glared back down by an angry pair of twins. In hind-sight, Italy reflected, it was a pretty bad idea anyway. He'd not try to disrupt the two again. At least while they were fighting.

"Chocolate!"

"Vanilla!"

"Chocola-"

The shout was cut off by an irate England. "Why not just have marble cupcakes?" He asked, trying to sooth the irritated twins. Clearly, it wasn't working because the moment he finished speaking, the boys started up again.

"That's a stupid idea."

"The dumbest idea ever."

"You can't even taste the vanilla if you make marble cupcakes!"

"It's basically just a chocolate cupcake!"

"Which admittedly _are_ good, Mattie."

"I thought you liked vanilla cupcakes?"

At least they weren't shouting anymore, the other present nations thought. With a groan, some nations sank down in their chairs. Some were asleep, but we won't name names. Germany resumed bashing his forehead into the table-top.

"I do, but I guess chocolate cupcakes aren't _that_ bad."

"Oh... Well... I guess vanilla cupcakes are ok..."

"Especially if you put chocolate frosting on them!"

"I'd believe that, actually."

The twins were now walking out the door, as though the fight had never happened. As they were halfway down the hall, and nearing the exit, Germany's head shot up from the table. Standing, he tore off after the two. "You can't just leave! We need to start the meeting!" Germany rumbled, jogging after the two.

Surprisingly, the twins actually _did_ stop. They turned to face Germany, before turning to face each other. There was a moment of silence. America opened his mouth. Germany's whole body tensed. Canada shifted his feet.

"RUN, MATTIE, RUN!"

Laughing, the two twins took off running. The sound of feet hitting the floor faded as they got further away. Unfreezing, Germany took off after them. He burst through the building's front door just in time for America's ostentatious red car to swing by. Canada and America howled with laughter as they shot out of the parking lot.

Chocolate~Vanilla~Chocolate~Vanilla~Chocolate~

The next day the brought cupcakes. Chocolate cupcakes with vanilla frosting, Vanilla cupcakes with chocolate frosting, Red velvet cupcakes, marble cupcakes, and any other cupcake flavor you can think of (and some that you didn't).

* * *

Happy belated 1st and 4th of July, y'all.

Sorry this is so late... There's no excuse, really.

Posted On: 7-7-13


	23. Like the Sun

Disclaimer: I don't own it, and nor do I claim to. Get off mah back~

* * *

When Arthur Kirkland was fifteen, he had burnt his hands very badly. The burns had damaged his nerves, and his family, who were often absent, sent him to a rehabilitation center to recover. He had been given a room once there, and the nurses were very kind. They answered any questions he had, and often snuck him a cup of tea, if he asked politely.

However, there was this one strange boy who would often appear when he felt especially lonely, which was often in the evenings. He had blue eyes and blond hair, and the brightest disposition Arthur had ever seen in his (albeit short) life. It was two weeks after the visits began that Arthur told him his name. The boy had smiled so brightly that he, Arthur, could only compare it to the sun.

***~This is the Greatest line ever created in the history of ever~***

The next time the boy had visited, Arthur learned his name. It was Alfred, and he seemed quite proud of his name. When asked about it, he had replied with "I'm Alfred, and Alfred is me!" quickly and happily.

Sometimes another boy would come with Alfred. Ludwig, who was seventeen, and had damaged some muscles in one of his legs when he had broken it. Ludwig didn't talk nearly as much as Alfred did, but hovered around the sunny kid like an especially protective watch dog.

About twelve days after Arthur arrived, he felt well enough to actually leave his room for lunch. When he had walked into the cafeteria, Alfred had waved his arms and called his name. Feeling the tiniest bit of dread, the teen collected his food, and shuffled over to Alfred's table.

As he ate, he was reintroduced to Ludwig, before he was introduced to some of Alfred's other friends. There was Lovino, who had attempted suicide, and was now receiving counseling. There was also Francis Bonnefoy, who had a severe case of long-term amnesia, and could only remember his name and age.

Included in Alfred's list of friends was a girl named Lilli, who visited Ludwig often, and spoke fondly of her older brother, Vash. Also on the list, however was a boy named Kiku, who was prone to seizures, and as a result in and out of the place quite often. It wasn't long before Arthur was talking and laughing with the rest of them.

***~This is the Greatest line ever created in the history of ever~***

Once, Ludwig's older brother Gilbert came to visit him. He had hugged his brother, and ruffled Alfred's hair. Before the two had gotten lost in the news each other had to share, Alfred spoke. "How's my brother doing? How's Mattie?" He asked, swallowing. Gilbert smiled at told him that he was doing well.

Arthur leaned over to Kiku, with the tiniest frown. "Alfred has a brother?" He wondered, scratching at his chin. With a brief nod, Kiku stood as Alfred strode out of the room, and followed him out. Arthur followed not long after.

When they were out of the room, Arthur turned to Alfred. "You have a brother?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Alfred nodded, before he said "Yeah! He's my twin, and he's super awesome!" very excitedly. Kiku didn't look surprised, so Arthur figured he already knew. He wondered if Alfred's twin was anything like him.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

On Arthur's sixteenth birthday, they (meaning Alfred and his friends) threw him a surprise party. Apparently, a nurse had told the cafeteria lady about it, and so there was a cake. Everyone Arthur wanted to be there was, in fact, there. Except his brothers.

Arthur found that he didn't mind so much, when Alfred set a present in front of him. Upon unwrapping it, he found several books about different fairy tales. With a grin, he looked up at Alfred and proclaimed "I love it!" barely containing a happy laugh.

Alfred smiled again, radiating joy.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

One day, a nurse came in and told Arthur that his hands were almost better. They sent him home, with instructions to come back on every saturday for a month. His oldest brother, Alistair, came and collected him, and his things, quietly.

Alfred had run up, and hugged him goodbye at the last minute. Smiling as widely as he possibly could, the eleven year old proclaimed "Bye, Arthur! See you later!" happily. Alistair smiled the tiniest bit, and Arthur thought to himself 'So doth melteth the ice prince.'

When they were finally on the road, Alistair spoke. "He's a nice kid, hm?" He stated, green eyes locked solidly on the road. A hand raked through his red hair, before he continued. "You be good to him, Arthur..." His older brother murmured, before falling silent again. Arthur smiled, fingering the straps on his duffle bag.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

For Alfred's twelfth birthday, they took him to the movies. During the film, he sat stuffed between Ludwig and Lovino, half listening to Lovino's cynical comments, half watching the movie. Arthur was there, too, sitting next to Francis and Kiku, smiling every time Alfred giggled at something Lovino said.

Afterwards, whilst waiting for their ride, they stood in the lobby of the theater, talking about the movie. Alfred was happy and smiling, just like usual. Laughing as they discussed the finer points of their film, Arthur noticed Ludwig bend down to scoop Alfred into his arms.

The young boy looked rather pale, but he clung to Ludwig, even as they piled into a car. He fell asleep on the ride home, as rain pounded on the roof of the vehicle. Ludwig didn't let go of him until they could put him in his own bed. For once, Ludwig did not smile at Alfred as he slept. In fact, he looked rather tired.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

The next day, Alfred's brother came to see him. Together, they had bounced around happily. For the whole duration of Mattie's visit, they seemed to be joined at the hip. They ate lunch together, they sat together, they read together. The only time they separated was when one had to use the restroom.

The only other time they weren't together was when Mathew had to leave. The softer spoken twin had hugged his brother tightly before he went to sleep, and then shuffled out into the hall. Conveniently, all of Alfred's friends were there on a strange coincidence.

The violet eyed twelve year old stopped. Looking up at them, he took a deep breath. "I- I'd like to sa-ay, thanks for taking care of my brother. He doesn't have many f-friends." Mattie said, hiccoughing. Ludwig bent down to look him in the eye. "We're very lucky to have met Alfred. He's a good kid, very strong." The german boy murmured.

Mathew broke down in tears, and had to be carried out by his older brother, Matthias.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

On Christmas Eve, Arthur's older brothers had to work. Making a quick decision, he grabbed some boxes, and hopped into his car. Setting the packages on the passenger's seat, he took off. On his arrival, he found all of his friends in Alfred's room sitting cross-legged in the floor.

Scanning the room, he saw a break in the ring of teens, and plopped down in it. Passing around the brightly wrapped parcels he had brought, he recieved several in return. There was a pause as everyone got situated, before the chaos started. The sound of tearing paper, and rustling plastic filled the room, as even the older teens ripped their presents open like little kids.

Arthur sat back, instead of opening his presents, watching the rest of them grab up boxes or bags, and open them. Suddenly, Lovino howled "Goddammit, Antonio!" as he looked at a CD case. As everyone turned to look at him, he grudgingly passed the CD around, earning a laugh every time the gift was passed to someone new.

On the CD's case someone had scrawled "To my little tomato, love Toni' in an almost messy handwriting. Barely recognizeable behind the permanent marker, Arthur could faintly make out two words. "Enrique Iglesias..." He read aloud, earning a violent blush from Lovino as everyone laughed again.

Soon enough, even Arthur's presents were open, and only one of Alfred's remained unopened. As the twelve year old tugged and tore the paper off, everyone could see a box starting to appear. Shortly after it, the words 'Harry Potter' became visible. With a shriek, Alfred tackled Arthur, grinning broadly.

Everyone reached a consensus. Alfred's smile was just like the sun.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

In February, when Arthur came to visit Alfred again, there was a silver-haired boy sitting next to Mattie by Alfred's bed. When Arthur stepped into the room, the two stood up and left with a "Bye, Al." And a hiccough. "Bye, Mattie! Bye, Emil!" Alfred called after them, sounding exhausted.

Arthur gave a little cough, and sat down next to him on the bed. "Hi, Arthur!" Alfred murmured, tiredly. Ludwig, Francis, Lovino, and Lilli slid into the room quietly, standing near the door. "Hullo, Alfred." The older teen greeted, running a hand through his hair. The tone was light-hearted for quite some time after that, as all the friends chattered about nothing together.

At about five o'clock, Arthur stood to leave. Alfred latched onto his sleeve, mumbling "Arthur don't go yet, I have something to tell you..." just loud enough for everyone to hear. Turning around to face the boy yet again, Arthur cocked his eyebrow. Seeing the rather bushy eyebrow move, the younger boy couldn't help but smile.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, as Ludwig ushered the rest of their friends into the room, shutting the door with a quiet click. "Well..." Alfred mumbled, tracing shapes into his blanket. "It's about why i'm always here..." The youngest member of their tribe of hell-raisers whispered, voice catching here and there.

Ludwig managed to choke out a sentence, just before Alfred could follow up his train of thought. "It's cancer, isn't it?" The older boy asked, solemnly. Finally, the boy looked up from his fingers. Throat feeling dry, he answered rather hoarsely. "Yeah. It's cancer." Alfred stated, glancing at Arthur.

The teen in question stood stock still, expression conveying absolutely nothing. Suddenly, Arthur wrenched the door open, dashing down the hall as though pursued by hounds of hell. He kept running, even when his chest constricted and he couldn't breathe.

His feet smacking on the floor didn't quite drown out Alfred's anguished cry of "Arthur!"

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

When Alfred started crying, Ludwig tore after Arthur, leaving the inconsolable boy with Lovino, Francis, Kiku, and Lilli. His feet pounding on the floor, Ludwig ran faster then he ever had before. "Arthur!" He called, catching up to the younger teen just in time. Arthur spun around, tears running down his face.

"I- I just can't, Ludwig. I'm going home." He choked, shoulders shaking with tremors. Ludwig latched onto his arm, much like Alfred had done only moments earlier. "Promise me that you'll come see him soon." The taller blond demanded. Arthur just turned around and walked out.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

It was the middle of May, before Arthur came again. Alfred looked up when he walked into the room. "Arthur!" He called, sounding joyful, but tired. "I missed you!" He proclaimed, arms opening for a hug. "I missed you too." Arthur murmured into the younger boy's shoulder, as he held onto him for dear life.

When Ludwig came in to see Alfred some time later, he smiled as he slid into the room quietly. Arthur sat next to Alfred, animatedly telling the twelve year old random little stories, some of which were probably made up on the spot. Alfred looked him in the eyes, and said "Tell 'em I said 'Guys, we're getting the band back together!'." with a huge grin.

Nodding, Ludwig smiled to himself when he heard them laughing as he strode down the hall, standing tall. He made sure to tell each of them _exactly_ what Alfred had said. They had all laughed, brightly.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

After that, everything went back to normal. Arthur came to see Alfred as often as he could, and everyone was glad for it. They ate lunch together, like they used to, and told stories on rainy days. Alfred, who had been rather depressed after Arthur left, went back to being his sunny self.

His brothers, Mattie, Mathias, and Emil came and visited him a lot more often. That was fine by Arthur, who knee it made Alfred really happy. Lovino, who was over his own depression, only ever came by to visit Alfred. Once or twice, the Italian boy brought his twin brother over. Ludwig got along with Feliciano like a house on fire.

Gilbert came to see Alfred with his brother a few times, spinning tales about 'this pansy boy, Roderich.' when he did. Everything seemed to fly by very quickly, but it was light-hearted almost always.

Alfred always seemed to be smiling, filling everyone he knew in light and joy.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

Sometimes when Arthur visited Alfred, he could barely hold his head up. He was always happy to see him, of course, but on those days, it hurt. It hurt a lot when Alfred winced at loud noises, or clumsily dropped that he had been holding. The blue eyed boy was almost always swaddled in blankets, saying he was freezing. Except when he had a fever, and couldn't stand the warmth.

Arthur thought it hurt the most when he started bruising. The ugly purple patches would adorn his skin for days, and they came so easily that it was almost comical. It wasn't though, and Arthur always felt bad if he accidentally knocked into the boy. Within an hour of such an occurrence, there would be a mark.

Arthur decided he was wrong when Alfred stopped eating all of his food. That hurt the worst. Alfred loved food, always appreciated it more then some thought he should. The blond boy was especially careful about cleaning his plate, saying that one should never waste. When Alfred started sending back some of his food, Arthur cried on his way home.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

On July 3rd, the day before Alfred's birthday, he stopped Arthur on his way out. "Arthur." He said "You're the best friend ever, did'ja know that?". It was followed directly by an "I love you" and a yawn. As Alfred slipped off to sleep, Arthur whispered "Love you too..." before slipping out of the room.

Arthur scrubbed furiously at his eyes as he walked through the hall, waving distractedly at Francis, who was starting to get some of his memory back. Alfred was like the little brother he had never had, in many ways. So when he said 'I love you' why did it sound like 'goodbye'?

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

The next morning, Alistair woke him up by shoving the phone into his hands. Groggily, he lifted it to his ear with a tired "Hello?". It was Ludwig. It was Ludwig, and he sounded like he had been crying. After a few moments of 'how are you' and 'that's nice' Ludwig stopped beating around the bush. "Alfred is dead." The german hiccoughed out "He passed away just after midnight last night.".

There was a long minute of silence, before Ludwig heard a sniffle. "I'll call you later, Arthur. Goodbye." With that, the line went dead. Arthur dropped the phone, with a thud. He hiccoughed for a few minutes, sniffles in between, before it really sunk in. When it did, hiccoughs became sobs, and sniffles became gasps for air.

Some time after he started crying, maybe ten minutes, Alistair came back in. Sitting on his little brother's bed, the red-head tugged the teen into his lap in a way he hadn't done since Arthur was a baby. Arthur buried his face into his older brother's chest, wailing uncontrollably like a toddler. After a few more minutes, Alistair began rubbing Arthur's back, and petting his hair, as he murmured soothingly.

Not once did Arthur smile that day.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

Arthur went to the funeral, of course. All of his friends, who coincidentally were Al- _His_ friends, where there as well. He also spotted Alfred's brothers Mattie and Emil being held like small children by Mathias as they cried. Standing near the three was a silver haired man who resembled Emil greatly.

The man, who looked to be about Mathias' age, was crying silently, tears pouring down his face, as he mumbled under his breath. Later he found out (from Lovino) that the man he had seen was Al- _His_ oldest brother; Lukas.

Arthur cried again when Alfred was buried, and again, Alistair hugged him and murmured comforting things. Alfred's brothers must have cried the most, Mattie and Emil both sobbing into Mathias' shoulders, and the man cried himself. Lukas, perhaps, cried the most, if the quietest. Tears fell like rain down his face, and he looked quite hollow.

Arthur quietly hoped that he didn't look like that. Alistair thought he did.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

Just before Arthur and his brothers left to go home, Lukas came up to him. Silently, the quiet man handed him a book. Before Arthur could say anything, he was gone. Blinking in surprise, he looked back down at the book. The title proudly proclaimed 'Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone'.

Arthur cried again.

***~This is the Greatest line in the history of ever~***

It was a full year before Arthur touched the book again. Three hundred and sixty five days since Alfred had gone. Picking up the book he had given to Alfred for Christmas, he opened the cover. Scrawled on a childish hand there was a note.

'Dear Arthur,

Please don't ever stop believing in magic.

Love, Alfred'

Arthur smiled shakily, and nodded. Turning the page, he read the familiar text reverently. Page after page flew by, seeming new and exciting, though Arthur had read it at least a dozen times. All too soon, the book was over, and he made to close it. On an impulse, however, he turned the final page. There, written on the once blank page was another note, and a photo taped on carefully.

The note was written twice, once by Alfred and once by, presumably, Lukas.

'Where one journey ends, another begins.'

The tape on the photo was old, and the picture fell off with ease. Carefully tugging the tape off of the picture itself, Arthur finally truly looked at it. It was a boy who smiled like the sun.

And the world kept on turning.

** *~The End~***

* * *

I committed a huge no-no by starting a sentence with 'And' but it was necessary. Don't judge me!

Posted On: 8-8-13


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